


October Glad

by TheWritersCottage



Series: October Glad Series [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Halloween, M/M, Occupational Therapist!Aang, Tea Shop Manager!Zuko, all the feels, explicit chapters are marked in authors notes, modern day AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:35:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 47,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26833033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWritersCottage/pseuds/TheWritersCottage
Summary: Zuko goes to a Halloween party Sokka is throwing, and he doesn't expect to end up smitten with his new roommate.Aang is a charming young Occupational Therapist who's come to town for his first fieldwork placement. When he meets Zuko, he doesn't expect to fall as hard as he does, or as fast.It's almost too easy, and that's when Aang and Zuko learn that relationships are hard, especially for them.Aged up characters, modern day AU.
Relationships: Aang/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: October Glad Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139768
Comments: 219
Kudos: 151





	1. Halloween

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to set this in Canada because I'm Canadian, and heck, it's not like my home town gets a lot of love otherwise. So, welcome to Halloween in Calgary. Let's just pretend they'd all be there.

Zuko never was a huge party guy, but he figured there was no harm in letting loose every now and then. Plus, it was Halloween, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd done anything to celebrate the day.

Sokka, his childhood friend, was the one throwing the shindig. He and his sister had a neat little townhouse in the northwest quadrant of town. It was a long drive across the city, and there was a threatening frost in the air. The trees had already dropped their leaves, their jagged black branches stretching like claws against the darkening sky.

He pulled his charcoal Volkswagen Passat off the main road, driving a few blocks before coming to a roundabout and taking the second exit, a route he could almost drive with his eyes closed.

Of course, Sokka didn't do Halloween by halves. An avid costume lover even outside of the holiday, he had threatened humiliations Zuko knew he would make good on if he didn't dress up. Again, given how long it had been since he'd done anything for Halloween, he had to wrack his brain. He knew Sokka wouldn't be satisfied with a simple cape. So when he did figure out what to wear, he had to admit he was pretty impressed with himself.

He was surprised to see the line up of cars parked outside Sokka's place, and he felt his heart sink into his stomach. Not only was Zuko not a party person, he wouldn't call himself a people person either. Though he did currently work a management position at his uncle's tea shop. As much as leadership was the last thing he'd thought he would be cut out for, things had been going pretty well. Still, managing the intricacies of business was not the same as socializing.

Whatever, he'd just drink himself social. He could always crash on Sokka's floor if he wanted to avoid driving under the influence.

Zuko checked himself in the rear view mirror. His calavera make up seemed to have survived the journey. Not wanting to invest in a costume he'd never wear again, Zuko opted for face paint he could give to Sokka after tonight. His face looked so foreign to him under the heavy make up. His eye sockets were a haunted black, the slight pucker of the scar around his left eye was a noticeable rough texture beneath the paint. Zuko hoped his skin wouldn't be irritated later.

Postponing the inevitable, he took a minute to admire his handiwork - the black lines were stark against the bright white base. The sharp lines on his lips were a convincing rendition of bare teeth, the simple rounded petals framing his sockets were coloured in with crimson red. He'd even gone to the trouble of drawing on a spider's web rising from an elegant v between his eyes and expanding over his forehead. On his cheeks, under each eye, he'd added long downward sloping lines that curled in at their ends. The end of his nose appeared to be a black hollow in the centre of his face. He'd also done his best to draw the likeness of a rose on his chin.

The make up was really the star of the show, but he'd been sure to use a bit of product in his hair to hold it in an elegant wave across his forehead. An unusual look for him, but it seemed to work.

He took a deep breath and opened the car door to let himself out. With the car locked behind him, he smoothed out some of the wrinkles in the fitted pinstriped suit. He'd borrowed it from Sokka. The attractive crimson of his button up was like a fire in a black and white forest.

He couldn't dawdle forever, so he followed the rhythmic bass of too loud music to its source. He could even feel it rumbling in his chest, and he wondered idly if Sokka was risking a visit from the police later.

Once at the house, Zuko didn't bother knocking. Holding a bottle of gin in one hand, he pushed the door open and winced against the full volume of the music. His ears rang for a moment as he clicked the door closed behind him. He toed off his shoes, leaving them in the already impressive pile.

There were _so many people._ Zuko counted at least fifteen in the living room - some sitting on the couch, others standing in clusters, yelling to be heard over the music. A few were dancing, and Zuko saw the familiar wolftail of Sokka's hair as he braided through bodies to greet him.

He was dressed like Sherlock Holmes, pipe, deer stalker and all.

"Looking good!" Sokka yelled, taking the bottle of gin and leading Zuko through the throng of guests to the kitchen.

The kitchen wasn't much better for available breathing room, but there were less people here. He saw Katara, Sokka's sister, handing a drink back to a guest from the fridge.

"Hey Zuko! Love the look." She said with a smile. She was dressed as a pirate, a fake parrot pinned to her shoulder.

Zuko nodded, but he was distracted by the stranger she'd just handed the drink to. He was wearing a toga, one shoulder exposed. A leafy crown wrapped around the back of his hairless head, and Zuko couldn't help but notice the blue arrow tattoo that started between his brows, sloping over the curve of his head, down his neck and onto his back. The tattoos disappeared under his toga to reappear under his arms around to the top of his forearms all the way down to his hands, where they came to arrowheads. They did the same down his shins, one blue arrowhead over each of his arches.

The stranger noticed him staring and gave him a bright smile, offering his free hand in greeting.

"Hey, you look great. I'm Aang. Zuko, was it?"

Zuko nodded dumbly as he took Aang's hand and shook.

"Get this man a gin and tonic, immediately!" Sokka demanded of his sister who rolled her eyes.

"I can get it," Aang offered. "You two get back out to the party."

Sokka waved gratefully as he strode back to the living room, Katara at his heels.

Zuko wasn't expecting to feel so flustered, but Aang was simply the most gorgeous man he'd seen in his life. Looking into his eyes was like looking into a shining creek, smooth grey stones beneath shimmering water. His toga left little to the imagination - Aang had a lean athletic build, his strong shoulders led to elegant sinewy arms, and his calves... god help him.

"Hey, everything alright?" Aang asked, taking a glass from a cupboard and setting it down on the kitchen island.

Feeling his face heat up, Zuko was grateful his blush couldn't be seen under the heavy make up.

"Oh, yes. Sorry. I- I'm not the best at parties."

Aang laughed - a cheerful, melodious sound.

"I get it. I'm an extrovert, but I have introverted tendencies. If I go missing at any point, you can safely assume I'm hiding in the washroom to recover for a bit."

Zuko smiles in spite of himself.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Done mixing the drink, Aang handed Zuko the glass.

"Thanks. I, uh, don't think I've seen you around before. How do you know Sokka and Katara?" Zuko asked, hoping to forestall their return to the busy living room.

"Oh, I'm their new roommate. Just moved in a couple weeks ago, I'm new to this city."

Zuko swallows down the hope growing in his chest. Aang _lives_ here, at his best friend's house, where Zuko spends a lot of his free time.

He busies himself by taking a sip of the gin and tonic. Though it's a simple concoction, he could swear it tastes sweeter for Aang having fixed it.

"Welcome, then." Zuko says.

"Thanks! How do you know them?"

Zuko shrugs. "We go way back. I don't even remember meeting Sokka, we've been friends that long."

Aang nods as he twists off the lid to his beer bottle. Zuko notes that it's a winter ale and files this information away for later.

"So what brings you to Calgary of all places?" Zuko asks.

"I'm just starting my Occupational Therapy practicum, and this is where I was placed. I'm originally from Prince Edward Island."

Zuko's eyebrow quirked in surprise. Aang was a long way from home. His easy friendliness made sense now, however. He was a small town boy who probably grew up knowing the names of every grocery store employee.

"Before you ask, yes, I am a fan of Anne of Green Gables. Basically impossible not to be." Aang says, a languid grin spreading over his lips.

Zuko smirks and summons a quote his mother often recited. "I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers."

Aang's eyes widen and his grin transforms into a blinding smile. Zuko's heart almost explodes at the sight.

"Exactly!" Aang says enthusiastically.

Zuko decides he needs to hurry up and stop being awkward. He knocks back his gin and tonic and pours himself another, then knocks that back too. Aang is looking at him with something like concern when he meets his eyes again.

"Do you dance?" Zuko asks, sounding braver than he feels.

Aang chuckles and nods. He sets his beer down on the counter and takes Zuko by the wrist, leading him back into the living room. Aang's touch feels electric against Zuko's skin.

Once they're in the middle of the room next to other writhing bodies, Aang expertly moves to the breakneck beats of Istanbul (Not Constantinople). Zuko keeps pace, shuffling his weight from foot to foot, rolling his shoulders when appropriate. He lets himself watch Aang as he moves, and it's an absolute treat. The lights are low, and the shadows shift tantalizingly over Aang's body as he flexes and sways. Zuko wants nothing more than to press his lips to Aang's beautiful neck.

The gin was already hitting him, and it was all the liquid courage he needed - Zuko danced like only Aang was watching. He didn't know if he looked elegant or like he had two left feet, but he didn't care. Aang was dancing with him, and his attention seemed to be going nowhere else. The music carried them into dance after dance, until finally Zuko couldn't dance anymore. The two gin and tonics he'd had were wearing off, and he feared, with no small amount of horror, that he'd made a fool of himself in front of Aang. He registers the cloying heat of the other dancing bodies around him, and lightheadedness washes over him.

"I'll be right back." Zuko shouts over the music and makes his way upstairs to the washroom. He's so relieved when he reaches the top of the stairs to find there's not one other person to be seen. He steps into the washroom and flicks the switch. Somehow, his make up has stood up to the test of his sweat, though his hair is plastered to his forehead.

Zuko lets himself sit on the edge of the bathtub with his arms resting over his knees. All he can think of are Aang's smiling eyes staring back at him as they danced. Not usually one for flights of fancy, he wonders why his heart races at the thought of this person he's just met.

He's warm after dancing for so long, so Zuko shrugs off his pinstripe coat and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. He loosens the collar by undoing the first two buttons and sighs as the cool air settles over him.

He sits there a long time, just letting himself decompress.

A soft knock comes from the other side of the door.

"Hey, sorry, I just wanted to check to make sure you're alright." It was Aang. "I swear I'm not trying to be a creep, you've just been gone a while."

Zuko's heart leapt into his throat. The sincerity in Aang's voice makes him want to cry. He opens the door with his coat over his arm.

"Hey, I thought I'd take a page out of your book." He says with a shy smile. "The gin wore off, and I needed a breather."

Aang considered him for a long while before finally speaking.

"How about a walk? Some fresh air might do you some good."

Zuko remembers the crisp bite of autumn, and he realizes he wants nothing more. But Aang isn't exactly dressed for the weather.

"I'd like to, but you can't go out in that." Zuko says, gesturing at Aang's toga. He laughs.

"No, you're probably right. Wait for me by the door. I won't be a minute."

Zuko watches Aang rush down the stairs and out of sight. He's just beginning to descend the stairs himself when Aang's head pops around the wall.

"Just thought of this - do you have a scarf or a heavier coat with you?"

Zuko shakes his head, he hadn't thought he'd need anything else. "I should be okay with this."

"Nah, I have spares. I'll grab some for you."

Before Zuko can protest, Aang has disappeared again. He takes the rest of the stairs down to the door and watches the now sleepy guests. Sokka has turned down the music to a more acceptable volume, a sure sign the party is winding down. A few people have already left, and only a few guests remain.

"Hey bud, you leaving?" Sokka asks when he sees him standing by the door.

Zuko blushes. "Uh, no, just getting some fresh air."

Sokka's eyebrows wiggle. "With company?"

"Yep, with me." Aang says cheerfully as he sweeps in from the living room. He's now wearing brown jeans and an orange and yellow tee under a charcoal grey coat. He hands Zuko a black one with a yellow scarf.

Sokka elbows Zuko and waves as he heads back into the living room, taking a seat next to Suki, his girlfriend. Zuko's face is absolutely burning now, and he's sure the heat will melt the make up off. He takes the coat and puts it on, and wraps the scarf around his neck before hunting down both his shoes. Soon he's ready, and Aang holds the door open for him to step out into the night. He gasps when he sees the light blanket of powdery snow coating the ground. It's still falling.

"Wow." Aang says reverently as he stands under the falling flakes, palms outstretched to catch them. Zuko is watching Aang with the same awe he's watching the snow fall. He looks adorable in his slouchy orange toque.

"Shall we?" Zuko asks, gesturing to the sidewalk.

"We shall."

They walk in silence at first, and Zuko's mind races to find something to say. Aang beats him to it.

"So, you have anyone special in your life?" He asks casually.

Zuko's heart stutters.

"Uh, no. Not at the moment. I used to."

Aang looks at him sidelong, waiting for him to continue.

"I was in a relationship with a childhood friend of mine. We broke up a few years ago." Something in Aang's eyes makes him add, "She's the only person I've ever dated."

Aang's expression falls almost imperceptibly, and Zuko realizes the folly of his words.

"Oh, I'm bi." He says quickly.

Aang smiles at him. "Guess I'm no good at playing cards close to my chest." He shakes his head at himself. "How do you know if you've only ever dated one girl before?"

He'd known since he was a teenager. He'd always been attracted to both genders, it just so happened that the first person to ask him out was a woman.

The next words out of Zuko's mouth surprise him. "Well, for starters, I'm very attracted to you."

Aang stops short, his mouth open in a small "o". His hands are in his pockets, and he locks eyes with Zuko. A deep blush creeps its way up Aang's neck and over his cheeks, making Zuko's heart swell.

They're under a streetlamp with snow swirling all around them, and Aang steps closer.

"Uh, Zuko - can I...?"

Zuko's so intoxicated by Aang's proximity that he nearly forgets the make up, and that's enough to break the moment.

"Not like this." He breathes. "It'll be a mess." Not to mention, Aang hasn't seen his scar yet. He might change his mind when he does.

Aang looks disappointed, so Zuko holds his hand out to him. The grey eyes widen and an easy smile lights his beautiful face as Aang wraps Zuko's proferred hand in his. He feels strong, and so warm.

They walk for a long time, chatting as they do. Zuko asks Aang a few questions about his life back in Prince Edward Island, and about Occupational Therapy. He tells Aang about his management role at his uncle's tea shop, and about some of his favourite haunts around the city. He's especially fond of a 20s themed speakeasy that only the trendy know about.

"You have to make a reservation weeks ahead of time, and you can only be inside for an hour to allow for more people to be seated since it's so small. It's hidden behind a secret wall disguised as a bookcase. They serve the best cocktails in Calgary. We don't have a lot of artsy culture to speak of, but it's one gem we can boast about." Zuko explains, strangely relaxed with Aang next to him.

"Sounds amazing. What are the chances of taking you on a date there?" Aang says with a goofy smile and one raised brow.

Zuko actually laughs.

"Chances are pretty good."

So they set the date and walk back to Sokka and Katara's. It's late now, and Zuko's sobered up enough to drive home. He briefly considers staying the night, but he wants to savour the memory of this first meeting alone.

Aang insists he take the coat and scarf with him. "You can give it back when I pick you up for our date."

Zuko stands outside the door facing Aang, who's resting a shoulder against the frame, and he can't help himself. He fists one hand in Aang's tee and presses their lips together chastely. Aang's lips are soft and warm, and Zuko wants to melt into him.

He pulls away and laughs. Aang has black and white smudges on his mouth from the contact.

"As you predicted?" Aang asks wryly.

"Indeed." Zuko replies. He gives Aang a wave and walks into the snowy night to his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how many chapters this will be, but I just needed something fluffy to hold me over. I'm still writing Of Sunflowers and Chrysanthemums, I just NEED some ZukAang cuteness a la right now.


	2. Little Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, I had a realization. I haven't a clue how to write simple modern day romance. I had to do a bunch of research on romantic plots to figure out how to write the rest of this story without throwing in something paranormal or sci-fi. I think I've got it though. Enjoy!
> 
> Edit: I learned after writing this monster that in Canada, fieldwork placement happens in 7 week intervals throughout the Master's program. So, to any Canadian OTs reading this, my apologies.

Aang wasted no time making a reservation for two at the bar Zuko mentioned, which turned out to be Betty Lou’s Library. As Zuko had said, they were booked up for the next couple weeks. As much as he would have liked to see Zuko sooner, he didn’t mind taking his time. He’d just arrived in Calgary a couple weeks ago, and he had another six months ahead of him.

Aang brought his attention back to the room. He was enjoying his foray into fieldwork, shadowing a senior occupational therapist with a private office just a fifteen minute drive away from the townhouse. Carolyn was her name. At the moment she was speaking with the mother of a happy looking young boy with down syndrome. Declan was his name. 

His eyes were bright with curiosity and intelligence, and he had already taken a shining to Aang. He bounced over to the young apprentice holding out a toy ankylosaurus.

“What’s your favourite dinosaur?” He asks enthusiastically.

Aang crouches down so he’s at the boy’s eye level, smiling brightly.

“I’m a big fan of this guy too, actually.” He says pointing to the toy. “He looks like a lizard turtle. He's great.”

The boy giggles and nods. “Yeah! Lizard turtle!”

Declan toddles back to his mother’s side, and Aang stands again to listen as Carolyn speaks gently to the boy's mother, winding up their meeting.

“Consider asking friends and family to help you cook meals to take some of the pressure off yourself.” She says kindly. “And don’t hesitate to have friends over after Declan’s bedtime to unwind. Making time to care for yourself will make it easier to care for your son.”

The mother nods and shakes Carolyn’s hand with a thank you. Before she can go, Declan rushes over to Aang and wraps himself around his legs.

“Bye Aang!” He exclaims and lets go.

Aang laughs from his belly and waves as Declan leaves.

“You’re a natural.” Carolyn says with a laugh after Declan and his mother have left for the day.

Aang grins back, his heart growing three sizes larger thanks to Declan’s easy affection.

“Thank you, but Declan’s the real hero here. He’s a great little guy.”

The rest of the afternoon is spent completing necessary paperwork, and once it’s done, Aang bids Carolyn farewell around five o’clock. He has a few hours before he needs to head off to his bartending job. The downside of fieldwork was that it went unpaid, but Aang wasn’t about to complain. If he had to work double time for the next six months, he could handle it.

Once at his car - an old Plymouth Sundance the colour of a gala apple - Aang got in and pulled out his phone. He swiped his thumb over the digital keys as he composed a text to Zuko.

Warm affection blooms in Aang’s chest at the memory of Zuko. He’s giddy at the thought of seeing him again.

_Hey, reservation for two at Betty Lou’s Library on Saturday, two weeks from now. I’ll pick you up at 6?_

He hits send and lets his phone fall into the cup holder next to his seat. Turning his key in the ignition, he waits for the radio to sputter to life. The enthusiastic chatter of radio hosts fills the car as he backs out of the parking lot and begins the drive home.

He keeps his window rolled down, revelling in the crisp air that caresses the skin of his forearms as he drives. He misses the golden leaves that once graced now bare branches. Still, the naked trees had their own kind of charm, twisting against the endless grey sky.

Aang breathed in deep and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel along to the beat of Dog Days Are Over. 

Rush hour traffic turned his fifteen minute commute into a half hour, but he wasn’t terribly concerned. He turned into the alley behind the townhouse, parking beside the back fence and got out. He had an unread text.

_You're on the ball. Sounds great, thanks. 6 is good._

Aang grins down at his phone and nearly walks into a telephone pole, only barely dodging it with some fancy footwork. He shakes his head at himself. 

Another notification pops up at the top of Aang’s screen.

_Zuko: Off work?_

_Aang: Just for a bit. Heading out to bartend in a few hours._

_Zuko: You bartend on top of your practicum?_

_Aang: Yeah, OT fieldwork is unpaid. Man’s gotta eat._

_Zuko: That’s rough. Where do you work?_

_Aang: It’s not so bad. Little lounge called the White Lotus that’s nearby._

_Zuko: Do you get any sleep?_

_Aang: I work from 8 p.m. to 3 a.m., so I snag a little sleep here and there. I don’t work every night, either. Usually three or four days every week._

Aang’s inside the townhouse, and he's the first one home. Sokka and Katara work downtown, and they take the train to save on parking. They likely won’t be back for another half hour or so.

Once he removes his shoes, he makes his way to the fridge to take out a bag salad and pulls out a bowl from the cupboard. Once he’s prepared a decently-sized portion for himself, he heads downstairs to the basement suite he’s renting. There’s a little pantry area where he keeps some of his own personal food items, and he chooses an avocado and a tomato, which he chops on a bit of counter space. Adding both to his salad, he sits down at a bar stool and begins to eat.

He’s surprised when his phone rings and Zuko’s name appears on his screen. He stops mid-bite and answers.

“Hey there, how’s it going?” Aang answers, unable to keep the pleasant surprise out of his tone.

“Hey,” Aang feels a tingle run up his spine as he hears Zuko’s silken voice over the speaker. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“Not at all. I was just sitting down to eat dinner.” 

“That sounds like interrupting.” Zuko says pointedly. “I can call another time.”

Aang finds himself lifting a hand as though Zuko could see it. “No, no. Now’s fine. Why don’t you talk to me while I eat? How was your day?”

Aang puts his phone on loudspeaker and sets it down on the counter next to him as he lifts forkfuls of greens to his mouth. Zuko seems to be thinking about his reply.

“Nothing terribly exciting. How much do you know about tea?”

Aang considers. “Honestly, not much. I like peppermint and green tea from the grocery store, but that’s about the extent of it.”

Zuko chuckles, and Aang feels his stomach knot. It’s a beautiful sound, and he decides he’ll discover each and every way he can draw it out in the future.

“Well, we just had a shipment of a new loose leaf green tea from Zambia. It’s been selling so well that we’ve had people calling to see if they can reserve a bag before it’s out. They’re never happy when I tell them that I can’t hold stock aside in-store, but they can always order online.” Here Zuko sighs. “I’ve been yelled at by angry middle-aged men and women more times than I care to admit.”

Aang can’t help but laugh. 

“That’s brutal. Who knew there would be bloodbaths over tea?”

“You’d be surprised.” Zuko says lightly from the other end.

“Keep talking to me.” Aang says, still not finished eating.

Zuko hums thoughtfully for a moment. 

“Oh,” he says at last. “You couldn’t see it because of the make up, but I have a burn scar on the left side of my face.” 

Aang’s eyebrows fly up onto his forehead.

“Oh, that’s crazy. Does it still hurt?”

Zuko seems to consider his reply. 

“Not really, but it’s affected how well I can see out of my left eye. I’ve had it since I was thirteen.”

Aang wants to ask how he got burned, but given that Zuko doesn’t seem to offer any additional details, he decides it’s best not to pry. 

“I just realized I haven’t seen your face, not really.” This thought intrigues him. He remembers Zuko’s golden eyes, and he wonders what he looks like without the calavera make up. “Your face paint was amazing, by the way. Did you do it yourself?”

“Oh yeah, guess you haven’t. We could switch to a video call-”

“No way. This is great. It’ll be like meeting you for the first time all over again.”

The line is very quiet, and Aang begins to worry he’s said something to put Zuko off. Then he hears him laugh.

“You’re such a romantic.” He says affectionately. “And as for the face paint, yeah. All the Japanese calligraphy lessons I endured as a kid were good for that at least.”

“Japanese calligraphy? That’s amazing. Is that your heritage?”

“Yeah, I’m half Japanese, half Chinese. Second generation kid - my parents moved to Canada and had me here.”

“That’s amazing. Did you grow up speaking multiple languages?”

Zuko lets out a sigh that crackles over the speaker.

“I can understand more than I can speak. My mother is from Japan, and she taught me a little Japanese growing up. My dad is Chinese, and he grew up speaking Cantonese. He was always busy when I was a kid, so I never did learn a lot. What about you?”

Aang has finally finished eating, and he sets his empty bowl aside to lean over his phone.

“Sort of similar. My parents were Tibetan, though I never knew them. I was adopted by monk Gyatso when I was just a baby. We immigrated to Canada when I was two or three, and I’ve lived in this country ever since.”

He’d been so engrossed in the conversation with Zuko that Aang was surprised when he saw that it was already seven. 

“I hate to say it, but I have to get ready to go to my next job.” 

He hears Zuko exhale. 

“Of course. I’ll let you go. Hope you have a good night.” Aang smiles at the awkwardness of Zuko’s formality. He’s absolutely tickled by it.

“Thanks for calling, honestly. This was the best possible way to start my night. We should do this again soon.”

“I’d like that. And yeah, it’s… been really nice talking to you.”

Aang feels the blush crawl up his neck again, and his heart flutters.

When he hangs up, he feels like he could float. Zuko _called_ him. It was so old school, and Aang was hopelessly lost to the romance of it. Feeling perfectly goofy, he went to change into his White Lotus uniform.

He really couldn’t wait to see Zuko again. He was already counting down the days.


	3. Would You Be So Kind?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wouldn't think so, but bringing these boys into modern day is actually a challenge when it comes to writing their backgrounds. Here's my stab at it.
> 
> Also, Aang's background was heavily inspired by the incredible The_Cloud_Whisperer's fic The Gift of Blood. If you haven't read her incredible fic yet, what are you waiting for?? Please go check her out. She's one of the most talented writers I've had the pleasure of stumbling upon.
> 
> Also, I very much suggest listening to Would You Be So Kind? by Dodie at some point in this chapter.

The next two weeks seemed to crawl and fly by all at once. The only thing keeping Zuko sane was calling Aang every two days to chat, and texting the rest of the time. He was pleasantly surprised that they never seemed to run out of things to talk about, but hearing Aang’s voice wasn’t enough. Zuko wanted so much to see him. Driven to distraction with anticipation, Zuko’s imagination would run ahead to their upcoming date.

His mental absence was quickly noticed by his uncle, who brought it up with him at work.

“Is everything alright, nephew?” He asked one day over Zuko’s lunch break. “Your mind seems to be elsewhere recently.”

Zuko felt heat climb his neck to his face, and tried to hide it while taking an exaggerated bite of his sandwich. His uncle, Iroh, had smiled knowingly then.

“It is not often you blush, Zuko.” He said this laying his hand over his rotund belly. “You must have met someone special.”

Zuko nearly choked on the too-big bite, and he began to cough like he was going to die. His uncle moved behind him to rub his back, handing him a glass of water. He took the glass, sipping between coughs until he could breathe normally again. Finally, he wiped the tears from his eyes.

Looking into Iroh's kindly face, Zuko felt all pretense fall away, and he let the warmth of his feelings paint his expression.

“I think so. It’s nothing serious, though.”

His uncle took a seat across from him and leaned back in his chair. “That’s how most love stories start, nephew. I’m happy you’re dating again, it has been a long time since your last relationship.”

Love was such a big word. Zuko felt his chest clench with a sudden pang of anxiety.

“We’ve only known each other for a week.” Zuko said meaningfully. “He’s taking me out next Saturday. I guess that’ll be our first official date.”

Iroh’s eyes widened just a fraction, and Zuko knew it was in response to the mention of a "he".

“Well, he better be as much as a gentleman I know you will be. Just remember that there is always a pot of tea on my stove for you if you need it, one way or the other.”

Warmth blooms in Zuko’s chest at the memory. 

Now he stands in front of his mirrored closet door trying to decide how to dress for the occasion. He'd been agonizing about it every day for the last week. Betty Lou’s Library was a swanky establishment where the servers wore their finest - fitted black dresses on the women and three piece suits for the men. As a fan of simple elegance, Zuko opts for fitted black jeans, a black leather belt with a simple gold buckle and a burgundy collared button up. He pulls on his black tailored wool coat to determine how it all looks together. He’s mostly satisfied, but decides to wear the gold watch Iroh had given him for his birthday a few years back. This, Zuko thinks, completes the look nicely. 

It’s too hot to wear his coat inside, so he leaves his room to cross his apartment. Reaching the front door, he hangs his coat on an ornate metal hook nailed to the wall. Aang’s coat and scarf hang on the hook next to it.

He looks down at his watch, and he’s almost annoyed that he’s ready so early. Aang won’t be by in another hour and half. Thankfully a text pops up on his screen, and for a moment he thinks it must be Aang, but it’s from Sokka.

_Aang looks good. Just a heads up. Try not to drool._

Zuko smirks at his screen and walks past the glass top dining table to the living room and plops down onto a vintage armchair his uncle had gifted him. The old cushions almost swallow him as he sinks into it.

 _No spoilers._ He texts back.

_Sokka: Fine. You puking nervous yet?_

_Zuko: I don’t puke when I’m nervous._

_Sokka: You turn green, you’re always a step away from puking. Also, how weird is it that you’re dating my roommate?_

_Zuko: I don’t turn green either. You sit upon a throne of lies. Is it weird for you?_

_Sokka: Ah, but it’s a throne I sit upon, Zuko. That’s what matters. And I don’t mean weird like it bothers me, I mean weird like coincidence. I mean, you’ve been single for years now, and Aang is the first person you want to do the nasty with after the drought?_

Zuko is sure his soul is lifting out of his body. Of course he’s attracted to Aang, but beyond his gin induced fantasy of kissing Aang’s neck, he’s kept his imagination in check. He prefers to err on the side of caution. Aang is still an unknown to him, and gorgeous though he may be, the cover really meant little to Zuko compared to the pages within. He was getting a better idea of who Aang was based on their conversations, and he liked what he’d learned so far. But Zuko wasn’t a kid anymore. He was turning thirty soon, and he had learned a lot from his relationship with Mai. Physical chemistry wasn’t enough.

_Zuko: You’re impossible. I never said anything about sex._

_Sokka: You didn’t have to._

Zuko shakes his head. He’s not going to win this argument. He types out a final text to Sokka.

_Take your dirty mind elsewhere. My date is picking me up in an hour. I probably won’t be answering my phone._

He follows up by setting his ringer to vibrate, and all other notifications to silent. He wants no interruptions tonight.

Feeling antsy, he decides to kill the last hour listening to an audio book to calm his nerves. He relaxes into the armchair and closes his eyes, letting himself be transported by the narrator’s voice.

He’s so engrossed in the story that the obnoxious buzz of the front door system almost gives him a heart attack. Quickly, he stops the audio book and leaps to his feet, rushing to the front and hitting a button on the intercom to speak into it.

“Hello?” He asks, in case it’s someone else.

“Hey! Your chariot awaits.” Come Aang’s bubbly tones through the speaker.

“Be right down.”

His heart is racing as he pulls on his ankle-high boots and his coat. He checks his reflection one last time, satisfied with the wave of his hair across his forehead. His eyes land on his scar, and his stomach churns. 

Too late for that now, he tells himself as he grabs Aang’s things and strides out his door, hearing it lock behind him. There’s no elevator, so he takes the four flights of stairs as quickly as he can without breaking his ankle.

He makes it down to the wide foyer and his heart leaps into his throat when he sees Aang standing outside the glass doors. Well, Sokka wasn’t kidding. 

Not wasting any time, he opens the door and steps onto the threshold. Aang looks up from his phone, an unsure smile on his lips.

“Zuko?” He asks.

He’d almost forgotten that Aang hadn’t seen his face yet.

“That’s my name.” He says with a smile of his own.

He can see Aang taking him in, and the caution in his smile melts away, transforming into what Zuko can only describe as delight.

“Hey.” He says warmly as he holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you, again.”

Zuko’s struck by the gentleness of the gesture. He plays along, taking Aang’s hand and shaking. 

“Nice to meet you, too.”

Aang looks incredible. He’s wearing a long camel coat that hangs down mid-thigh, deep brown jeans and a mustard yellow turtleneck that hugs his chest. His shoes are a pair of charcoal grey chelsea boots, which the legs of his jeans are tucked into at the ankle so the heel tabs are visible.

Zuko realizes he’s been holding Aang’s hand longer than necessary and releases him. He clears his throat.

“Which one’s you?” He asks, looking out at the parking lot.

Aang gestures at an old red car parked behind him. It looks hopelessly out of date, squat and rectangular with four doors. Zuko can see the window cranks through the glass. It’s charming, he thinks, like its owner.

“She’s old, but she’s in good shape.”

Remembering Aang's things, Zuko holds them out in front of him.

"Thanks for lending me your coat. I managed to get the face paint off your scarf, I think."

"No thanks needed, my coat is yours when you need it."

Aang takes his effects, then turns to descend the three cement stairs to his car, and he holds the passenger door open.

“After you.”

Zuko’s not used to this treatment. He was usually the one opening doors, not the other way around. His face flames hot with embarrassment, but he decides to just get in the damn car and be done with it. 

Aang closes the door and comes around to climb in on the driver’s side, depositing the extra coat and scarf in the back seat. He starts the motor, and Zuko’s eyes land on the arrowheads peeking out from under his sleeves as he takes the steering wheel and backs out.

Once they're pulled out of the parking lot, the tinny voice of the GPS begins to read the directions to their date spot.

“You can ask about the tattoos, it’s okay.”

He supposed Aang had to be accustomed to curious eyes by now, but his uncanny awareness of Zuko’s attention still caught him by surprise.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.” 

Aang smiles disarmingly. “No apology necessary. I’m happy to tell you about them.

“I got these after Gyatso died. Brain cancer. We caught the tumor before it had grown too large, but the prognosis without surgery would have been a few months. He decided to go under the knife. The doctors warned us that he might not be the same after that, and it was true. His cognitive ability had been permanently affected, and he couldn’t talk very well since the tumor had been pressing on the speech centre in his brain."

Aang pauses, a sad smile on his lips.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize..."

Aang holds up a hand.

“I didn't mention it before because I didn't want to make the conversation about me. I'm the one who should be apologizing. I know this isn’t the best note to start a date on.”

Zuko only shakes his head. “You don’t have to talk about it, but I’m listening if you want to finish telling me.”

“Well,” he says, apparently deciding to continue. “I cared for him for the next year, and finally he died. That’s when I knew I wanted to become an Occupational Therapist. Life after his surgery was hard, but being there for him gave me a deep sense of purpose. I decided to get the tattoos as a tribute to him. The arrows remind me to always look forward, and to channel kindness and love into every step I take, every thought I have and every action I perform. I chose blue because it’s a colour associated with healing, sincerity, wisdom, and higher consciousness. Gyatso raised me with Buddhist teachings, and I wanted to take that with me into the future.”

This knowledge felt sacred, now that Zuko knew it. The intimacy of the revelation was unexpected, Aang's openness made Zuko want to- what? Kiss him? Protect this precious individual from further hurts in the world?

“Thank you.” He said quietly. “For trusting me with that.”

“Thanks for listening.” 

***

Soon, Aang was pulling into a parking spot downtown, and the two were making their way to an alley. Zuko watched in amusement as Aang scratched his head when they approached the unassuming service entrance to a large white stoned building.

“Weird, the gps tells me it’s supposed to be here.”

Smiling knowingly, Zuko walks ahead, waving for Aang to follow him. 

They go through the glass door and descend five carpeted stairs down to a landing and turn to their right. There’s an old rotary phone sitting on a small table in front of a bookcase. Zuko stops and smiles up at Aang as he picks up the phone. 

“Betty Lou’s Library! Do you have a reservation?”

Aang has come close to hear, and Zuko hands him the receiver.

“Oh, yeah. Reservation for Aang at seven.”

“Password?”

Aang checks the email confirmation on his phone.

“Eddie Lang.”

“That’s it!”

The bookcase swings backward to reveal a dimly lit bar on the left, the black marble countertops glistening purple under the hue of dark bulbs in the ceiling. Crimson drapes decorate the walls, which are covered in a vintage black and white printed wallpaper. The host is a young man dressed in a three piece with white gloves. He bows holding two menus and leads Aang and Zuko to a cozy booth with black velvet cushions and a knee-high coffee table in front of it. The host leaves them with their menus and a server comes whizzing by with two iced waters. She smiles and shuffles away to give them time to decide what they want.

Zuko listens to the notes being played on a grand piano at the back of the establishment, and he can't imagine anything more perfect for his first date with Aang.

“Wow!” His date exclaims, leaning close so Zuko can hear him. “This place is amazing.”

Zuko realizes Aang is seated on his left side, and he feels the familiar self-consciousness creep into his thoughts. 

“Would you like to trade places?” He asks reflexively.

He’s met with a puzzled look, but it's not long before understanding comes over Aang's expression.

“Is this about your scar?” He asks, eyes wide.

Zuko presses his lips together in a tight line, then shrugs.

“It’s not pretty.” He says finally, looking down to study his menu. 

He almost jolts when a strong hand cups his chin, gently turning his head so he’s inches away from Aang’s shining grey eyes. He leans in so close, Zuko can feel their breath mingling.

“Zuko, you’re nothing short of stunning.”

Aang drops his hand and leans back to give Zuko room, but he’s still looking at him.

Would there be no end to the heat in his face tonight? What was he, a blushing maid? 

Seeing as he could think of absolutely nothing to follow Aang’s declaration, Zuko picks up a menu and shoves it into Aang’s hands more aggressively than he means to.

“What do you like to drink?” He asks, briskly changing the subject.

There’s a coy smile playing on Aang’s lips, but he turns his eyes to the menu in good sport.

“I’m always a fan of a whiskey sour, especially if it comes with egg whites.”

“They make a good one here.” 

“What’s your poison of preference?” Aang asks him.

“I’m always a fan of an Old Fashioned.” He says as he browses the menu. “What about food?”

“I’m vegetarian, so I’m really liking the whipped hummus option.”

“We can share that, if you like. How does the dried fruit berry medley sound to you?”

Zuko does eye the European meat plate, but the thought of sharing food with Aang appeals to him more. Plus, the portions aren’t large, so it makes more sense to order two vegetarian dishes.

“You sure? Because the medley does sound great.”

“I’m sure.”

The same server who brought their water comes over with a bright smile, her black cocktail dress swinging. She takes their orders and makes off with their menus.

“Zuko,” Aang starts, “may I ask about your scar?”

“Accident with a burner when I was a kid.” He lies swiftly. 

“Oh, that sounds awful. I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago, don’t worry.” 

Zuko fights back the real memory. He’s here with Aang, and that’s where he wants to remain.

The rest of their date flies by with easy conversation. He loves Aang's unapologetic laughter at his dry humour, and how enthusiastically he tells his own stories.

When their food arrives, they discuss flavours and preferences while sipping their drinks. To top it off, they order tiramisu to share for dessert.

Zuko protests when Aang pays the tab single handedly. The meal hadn’t been cheap, but Aang waved Zuko’s concern off, leading them back to his car. As they walked, Aang held out his hand - an invitation Zuko could choose to take or refuse. 

That was something he liked about Aang. He was bold, but always considerate. He remembered his caution when he asked Zuko if he could kiss him the night they met.

Zuko reaches out and wraps his long slender fingers around Aang’s hand, and the familiar shape of his palm is like an old friend. The contact immediately relaxes him.

Once in the car, Aang leans back in his chair with a thoughtful expression as he waits for the motor to heat up. Zuko watches as his eyes brighten and he turns to him looking excited.

"Do you know any cool lookout spots around the city? It's still early, we could go for a drive."

Zuko realizes he's nowhere near ready to end this night, and the thought of spending some one on one time with Aang energizes him.

"I can't think of any off the top of my head, but..." He pulls out his phone and gets to googling lookout points in Calgary. He wants to avoid popular spots, so he uses the listicles that come up more as a guide. They're downtown, so he figures something in the northeast would work well.

"If we head up towards the Calgary Zoo we should find somewhere that looks over the city from one of the surrounding neighbourhoods." He says finally. "Do you know where it is?"

Aang shakes his head but sets his gps to direct him towards the zoo. "I don't, but I'm about to find out." Here he gives Zuko a wide smile.

It's a serene drive - fresh snow blankets the city, and the light of the moon seems to make it glow against the night. The car is comfortably quiet as Aang drives. His hand rests on the gear shift, and Zuko finds himself reaching to rest his own hand over his.

"Do you miss PEI?" He asks, trying to sound casual, but his racing heart betrays him.

Aang smiles at the contact, lifting his fingers to lace them with Zuko's. His hands are long and elegant, and they feel as strong as they look.

"I do sometimes. Autumns there are gorgeous. I got to enjoy a bit of that before I moved, at least." He pauses to think. "I really miss the small town feel. Calgary is such a big and sprawling city, sometimes it's overwhelming."

"Tell me more about PEI. I was only there once as a kid, I don't remember much about it." He prompts, eager to learn more about the place that could produce this human miracle.

"Well, the pace there is much slower than it is here. It's more rural, but that doesn't stop it from being an impressive growth economy. The people are friendly, and you do get to the point where you know most of the locals after a few years. It's not the easiest place to find a job, and the nightlife is limited to game nights at friends' houses. Not that I was complaining." He sighs. "It's a lovely place. I'm definitely looking forward to going back at the end of my fieldwork placement."

Zuko feels his heart stop. Of course Aang wouldn't be in Calgary forever, he hadn't considered that there would be a point when he would leave.

"How long is your fieldwork placement?"

"It's six months, so I'll be done in April." He pauses. "I don't have any hard plans for what happens once I'm practicing. As I said, PEI isn't the best for jobs, so I always figured I'd have to move for my career."

Aang seems to let that hang between them, and Zuko wonders if it's an offering. It was strange thinking about April when it was only November, and they'd just met a couple weeks ago. But something about Aang made Zuko want to throw all caution to the wind, and if he were to turn around and ask him to move to PEI, or even hell and gone to the territories, Zuko wasn't sure he'd say no.

"I've thought about leaving Calgary before." He says, not meaning to betray himself. "Before, I mean. I've always loved BC. I've fantasized about moving to the Okanagan where the winters are mild, and there's a vineyard a stone's throw away in just about any direction."

Aang nods enthusiastically. "Oh, tell me about it. I actually worked in Osoyoos one summer picking fruit, and that was one of my best experiences. I fell in love with the place, and I would definitely do it again. I met some awesome people that summer - this couple from Australia, and this really attractive guy from Mexico. We, uh, hit it off." He chuckles. "TMI, but that was my first time, actually. With a guy. I was seventeen, I think?"

Zuko's not sure how to react, and he almost rolls his eyes at the slight pang of jealousy lodging itself in his heart.

"Was it the accent?" He jokes.

Aang laughs. "The accent definitely didn't hurt."

Zuko leans forward to exit the gps navigation when he sees the signs for the zoo.

"We can just drive around until we find a good spot to park." He explains when Aang gives him a questioning look.

They spend the next little while playing a game of left or right, neither of them familiar with the neighbourhood. After more than a few culdesacs, Aang was laughing.

"This is our life now." He says as he flips the car around for the umpteenth time. "This date will be henceforth known as the culdesac date."

Zuko can't help but chuckle. "I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with this part of the city. I'm a man of the southeast quadrant."

"Isn't that weird? People don't seem to venture too far from their quadrant here."

"It is odd. If it weren't for Sokka and Katara living on the opposite end of Calgary, I'd have no reason to go there."

And now Aang, of course, but he chooses to keep this to himself.

After getting lost a few more times, they finally come upon a parking lot next to a large playground, overlooking the flat expanse of the city leading to the downtown core. The lights of the high rises twinkle against the black night sky, and the Calgary Tower stands in the middle of it all, the red and blue glow of its light drawing Zuko's eyes.

Around the car, the snow is piled high on the ground, almost pristine except for the odd rabbit prints.

"I could get used to this." Aang sighs, leaning back in the driver's seat.

"You say that now," Zuko drawls. "You might change your mind when the real winter hits."

Aang looks out at the snow with a wistful expression, and Zuko quirks his brow when Aang opens his door to get out.

"Come on! This looks like the perfect snow to build a snowman with."

Zuko looks out at the white powder disdainfully. He tolerated the snow, he certainly didn't engage with it if he could avoid it. He's about to disagree, but Aang's already outside, and he's taken the keys with him. Groaning, Zuko swings his door open and steps into the cold.

_Stupid handsome idiot playing in the snow._

He barely steps over the wire separating the parking lot from the hill before he feels a cold slap on his neck.

_A snowball?!_

_"_ Wasn't me." Aang says with an innocent whistle, his hands folded behind his back.

"You're going to regret that."

Crouching to grab a handful of snow, Zuko quickly shapes it, throwing himself to the side to dodge another of Aang's snowballs. Once he's on his feet, he runs at Aang full-tilt, and the growing concern in his grey eyes is gratifying. Aang runs backwards, trying to keep from falling, and Zuko winds his arm back and throws, hard.

"Agh!" Aang yelps as the snowball smacks him square in the chest. He's just recovering when Zuko pitches a smaller one at his face, and it hits its mark. Zuko doubles over laughing as Aang brushes the snow away, sputtering.

"Oh, you're going down." Aang says with an evil smirk as he stretches down, and now Zuko's the one running.

They chase each other, pitching snowball after snowball, dodging, and sometimes going as far as rolling out of the way until they're both red-nosed and breathless. Throughout their fight, Zuko notices that Aang has been inching his way towards the playground. He has him on the run, a snowball hoisted over his shoulder just moments away from being able to hit Aang in his back. He chases the camel coat, close at Aang's heels - he's nearly got him cornered as they get closer to the slide, it's of the full cylinder variety, painted a bright blue that looks almost black against the snow-carpeted ground.

Zuko pulls his arm back and throws, certain he can't miss - but he does - because Aang isn't on the ground anymore. He's sailing over the slide in a front flip, and the snowball goes right under him, breaking on the ground just as Aang lands in a crouch on the other side of the slide's gaping mouth.

"What.the.hell?" Zuko demands.

Aang rises to stand, grinning maddeningly.

"Just a bit of parkour."

Zuko laughs humourlessly. "You couldn't have told me that _before_ we started?"

"Didn't want to brag." Aang says with a shrug. The next moment, his expression turns impish, and he disappears behind the slide again. Zuko knows he'll be up throwing snow at him, but he's ready. He may not have parkour, but he did have a history of martial arts to draw on.

As Aang springs back up, Zuko watches the pitch as though in slow motion. He smirks and throws himself onto his back, breaking the impact with the palms of his hands and watches as the snowball flies over him, just as he throws his legs forward, using the momentum to snap himself back to his feet. Quickly, he shapes the snow together from both his palms and pitches back. Aang's eyes are wide as he bends backward, arcing away from the projectile like something out of the Matrix. Zuko watches as Aang drops to his side and rolls so he's behind a mini rock climbing wall.

"Uh, what was that?" He hears Aang call from his hiding place.

"Just a bit of northern shaolin kung fu." Zuko says, preening. "But I didn't want to brag."

He hears Aang laugh from around the wall, watching as a tattooed hand appears, holding what looks like a single tissue.

"Truce?" He calls.

They'd each taken a couple spills, and Zuko's backside was starting to freeze. 

"Truce."

He hears the jingling of keys, and Aang steps out from behind the wall with his hands up.

"Impressive." He says smiling as he motions for Zuko to follow him back to the car. They both climb in, still catching their breath as the motor roars to life, the vents spitting cold air before warming.

"That was ridiculous." Zuko breathes, but he's smiling. He hadn't run around in the snow like that since he was a kid.

"Ridiculously _fun._ " Aang corrects.

"Yeah fine." Zuko says, crossing his arms. "It wasn't too bad."

"Pfft!" Aang puffs, brushing away some stray snow on his shoulder. "You had a blast, admit it."

"I will do no such thing."

"How long have you been doing martial arts?" His tone is buoyant, and his eyes are alive with bright energy as he asks.

"Since I was a kid, really. Instead of the gym, I went to the dojo."

Aang nods, his face brightening with admiration. "That's amazing. Maybe you could teach me a few moves sometime."

Maybe it was the running around, the snowball fight, the drink, or maybe it was just this gorgeous man's unadulterated enthusiasm, but Zuko's smiling so hard his face hurts.

"Only if you agree to show me some parkour."

They shake on it, and Aang elbows him and laughs. 

"Your hands are ice cold." Zuko notes, and Aang holds them in front of the vents, willing them to heat faster.

Without thinking, Zuko reaches out and takes Aang's hands in his, holding them up to his mouth. Once there, he breathes warm air over the reddened knuckles. When he looks up, he's all too happy to see Aang's furiously blushing face. The sight makes his heart do a little flip. The car goes too quiet, and Zuko loses himself in the grey of Aang's eyes. He's just about to lean forward to-

"I guess I better get you home." Aang says, smiling shyly. Zuko lets his hands go, and he unbuttons his coat against the heat in the car.

"Sure." He says, swallowing down his disappointment.

Aang moves the car into reverse and hits the gas, but they don't move. The wheels scream against the snow, spinning out.

"Ah hell." Aang curses. "Not now."

They were stuck in the snowbank.

"I'll get out to push." Zuko says, swinging his door open. He positions himself at the hood of the car and watches as Aang gets out with the snow scraper to clear away some of the offending powder and sets down the floor mats from the car behind each of the front tires.

"For traction." He explains before getting back in. "Ready?"

Zuko nods, and when he feels the wheels begin to rotate, he pushes, digging his boots in for purchase. He feels the car budge backward, and without the hood to lean on, Zuko pitches forward, his feet slipping. He narrowly avoids falling face-first, and the side of his body takes all the impact against the snowy pavement.

"Zuko!" He hears Aang's panicked tone above him, and strong arms wrap around his shoulders to help him stand. "You went flying. Are you alright?"

Leaning into Aang, they take a step - unfortunately, rather than safely moving ahead, they both slip on the tire smoothed ice and go flying backwards together. This time Aang takes most of the impact, his body breaking Zuko's fall.

"Well, that's going to hurt in the morning." Aang says weakly, not moving.

Tired of being defeated by ice and snow, Zuko carefully rises to his feet and pulls Aang up with him.

"This is going to sound stupid, but we should do the penguin walk." Zuko says, aggressively avoiding Aang's eyes.

"The what?"

"Don't make me say it again. Just hold my hand, look down and take small shuffling steps." He says, exasperated. He holds his hand out to Aang, and he takes it. Aang laughs the entire time, and it feels like an agonizing eternity of awkward shuffling, until they let each other go, diverging to each pick up one of the floor mats and heading for their respective sides of the car.

"Lord almighty." Aang exhales as he plops down into the driver's seat, pulling his door closed behind him.

"You can say that again." The warmth of the car is enough to make Zuko want to sob with relief. "This is why I don't play in the snow."

Aang shrugs. "It was good until the car got stuck."

Zuko agrees, but he decides to give Aang a look that says he doesn't.

"Alright, home. For real this time." Aang says, and they both sigh with relief as the car glides out of the parking lot without further snags.

***

Once the Plymouth is parked, Zuko humours Aang by waiting for him to come around and open his door for him. He’s still embarrassed, but after everything else that's happened tonight, he admits it's honestly rather sweet.

Once he steps out of the car, Aang follows him to the door of his building with his hands in his pockets. They stand facing each other on the cement step under a sickly fluorescent light.

“Thank you." Zuko says with a smile. "For dinner, and everything else. I wish you'd let me help you pay the bill.”

Aang’s grinning as he shrugs. “What’s money for anyway? I pay my bills, may as well use what’s left on good company.”

The parking lot is quiet, save for the sound of the odd car driving by in the distance. The air is crisp and still, and Zuko notes how Aang’s breath comes out in little puffs of condensation. His eyes fall to Aang’s full lips, and he swallows.

"Aang, I-" He stops, not sure how to say what he needs to without sounding childish. "Tonight was amazing." He says finally.

"Even falling in the snow? A lot?" Aang asks grinning.

Zuko smiles, letting himself be honest. "Even that, yeah." He pauses, feeling his pulse between his ears. All at once, yearning crashes over him. He feels like he needs to kiss Aang like he needs air. He takes a small step to cross the distance between them, and he looks up into Aang's gorgeous face. There’s just the barest hint of a blush spreading over his cheeks and nose, and Zuko tentatively reaches up to wrap his arms around Aang’s neck, unsure if he'll respond. 

His heart soars as he feels strong arms circle his waist, and when Aang’s lips are on his, he forgets how to breathe. His lips are chapped but warm against Zuko's own, and he sighs at the _rightness_ of the moment. The kiss is tender and languid as they melt together, enjoying the exciting newness of each other. Aang pulls him close so their chests are flush, and Zuko can feel his heart hammering as hard as his own.

The kiss deepens when Zuko parts his lips to let Aang explore his mouth. Gently, he feels Aang run his tongue over his bottom lip, asking permission. Heat rockets through Zuko's veins, and he presses himself against Aang harder.

Finally confident, Aang claims Zuko with his tongue, exploring his mouth liberally. His breath tastes like winter air and a hint of whiskey, and Zuko fights to keep his knees from buckling beneath him.

Throbbing heat coils in his stomach as he feels Aang's hand come up to the base of his neck to cradle his head, and impossibly, the kiss deepens. Their mouths are pressed so tightly against each other that Zuko can hardly breathe. The _need_ he feels is overwhelming, but as his lungs protest, he finally breaks away, gasping for air. 

The look on Aang’s face is sinful, his eyes hooded, and his lips slightly parted.

Emboldened by the deep blush painting Aang's cheeks, Zuko tips his head and leans into his neck, opening his lips against the soft skin there. The moment is even sweeter than he imagined it would be, and with this fantasy realized, he finds new fantasies begin to form. He hears Aang inhale sharply as he nips his throat.

He feels drunk, though he’d only had one drink. His head is spinning, all his senses screaming Aang's name.

“Will you come in?” Zuko whispers against his neck, silently cursing Sokka for being right.

He waits, but Aang says nothing. The lack of reply makes him pull away.

“I really wish I could," Aang’s expression is one of utter torture. "but I have work early tomorrow.”

“On a Sunday?”

“An Occupational Therapist never rests.”

Zuko chuckles in spite of himself. 

“Rain check?” Aang breathes, resting their foreheads together.

“Of course, but soon.” 

He tilts his face to catch Aang’s lips in another kiss - more innocent this time. 

They pull apart, and Aang descends the stairs to his car. He pauses before climbing into the driver's seat and meets Zuko's eyes to smile that blinding smile at him.

"You're wonderful, you know that?"

Zuko doesn't know what to say, so he just shrugs. He pushes his hands into his pockets and gestures with his coat for Aang to just _get out of here._ Aang laughs and stoops into the driver's seat. The motor of the old car growls to life, and Zuko waves just as Aang turns onto the road.

He's thankful for the chill in the air as it takes the edge off the heat in his stomach. Still, he could swear his heart was singing.


	4. Sloppy Seconds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why are most of you people awake at the ungodly hours of the morning? Go to sleep. 
> 
> (I say as the clock marks 12:35 a.m.)
> 
> If you've never listened to Sloppy Seconds by Watsky, I very much recommend it for this chapter.
> 
> Okay, so if you're not a fan of explicit content, I do want to say that this chapter does end with a bit of that. You can get away with reading the chapter until things start getting hot and heavy, and go ahead and click away. 
> 
> For those of you who aren't opposed to a bit of lovingly crafted smut, I hope you enjoy.

Aang had a skip in his step all day at work. And today was another double shift - OT from nine to five, and White Lotus from eight at night to three in the morning. He found his energy bubbling up from him in waves. Even the soreness from his fall in the snow wasn't enough to dampen his mood.

He noted with no small amount of glee that his enthusiasm seemed to catch on with the patients who came through Carolyn’s door. He’d even had the chance to work with a teenage girl named Jess, who was suffering with clinical anxiety. She was his first solo client as an apprentice. 

When she had first come in, her eyes had no light in them, and she didn’t smile. She looked like she was trying to shrink into herself, especially upon first meeting Aang. His heart ached for her as he recognized the loneliness in the slump of her shoulders. 

He led her to a cozy private room with soft couches and took a seat across from her. The colours of the furniture were selected to create an easy environment - gentle greens, mauves and blues. 

Like many others before her, she stared at his tattoos.

“Why arrows?” She asked, to the point.

Aang smiled at her, and opted for the simplified version of his story.

“They remind me to keep moving forward, no matter what I’m up against.”

That seemed to break some of the ice, so Aang settled into his chair to begin.

“Thanks for filling out the intake form. It says you’re here because you’ve been struggling with anxiety. Do you mind telling me a little more about yourself?”

So she began to talk; she’d been struggling with her social life as well as school. Aang employed the socratic method, asking her gentle questions to guide her thoughts, and to learn more about how the anxiety affected her, and to what extent. He listened as she told him about her home life, her missing father, and her overworked single mother. She talked about the revolving door of her mother’s boyfriends, and about trying to balance high school while working part-time. 

Aang made a few suggestions based on what she told him, and asked her to give him one goal she wanted to work toward between now and her next session. She did, and he offered a couple resources, including a free meditation app he recommended from personal experience. 

By the time Jess had to leave, she was smiling. She still looked small, but she stood straight and shook Aang’s hand on her way out. 

The rest of the day went very much the same, shadowing Carolyn and spending the usual forty-five minutes with Declan and his mother, though Aang mostly played babysitter while Carolyn did the work. They only had a couple more weeks of sessions to go, and Aang realized he was going to miss seeing the little guy. 

Once Declan and his mother left, Aang hummed an upbeat song to himself as he finished up with paperwork.

“You’re awfully cheerful today.” Carolyn remarked as she walked by his desk. “I mean, more than usual.” 

Aang laughed. He couldn’t help it, growing up in PEI, land of country romance, and raised by the ever gentle Gyatso had made Aang appreciate the small things. Zuko hadn’t been wrong, he was a romantic. 

“I really liked working with Jess today.” Aang says easily. “And I went on a date last night. Everything’s great at the moment.”

“Oh, a date! Well, that’s exciting. I’m surprised you aren’t already tied down - a handsome young man with your personality doesn’t stay single long.”

Aang blushes, but he’s flattered. 

“Guess I’m picky.” He says scratching the back of his neck. Carolyn laughs and walks to her own office, leaving him to finish up.

Once all reports are filled and filed away, Aang dons his coat and scarf to leave. He sticks his head in Carolyn’s office to wish her a good evening, then he heads out.

It’s Sunday, so Sokka and Katara are home. They’re in the living room arguing about some plot point in a show they’ve been watching together, and Aang kicks off his shoes to join them. Sokka waves at him in greeting.

“Hey Aang!” Katara greets warmly. “How was work A?” 

“It was great, actually. I had my first go at one-on-one counseling today, and it went really well.”

Katara smiles at him. “That’s fantastic, Aang. I’m happy to hear it.”

Sokka and Katara were both pretty people - they had taupe skin with bright blue eyes and dark brown hair. They came from an inuit family background, having moved to Alberta with their father for his political career. He was a strong voice for the indigenous community of the province, and a well-loved advocate. 

“Oh hey, Aang, did Zuko mention anything about his birthday to you?” Sokka asks from the couch.

“Uh, no he hasn’t. Why do you ask?”

Sokka closes his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest.

“If that bastard thinks he’s going to get away without a party for the big three-oh, he has another thing coming.”

Aang can’t help but feel a little betrayed by this knowledge. Sure, he and Zuko had only been dating for a couple weeks, but thirty was a big deal, and Aang would have liked to know it was coming up.

“When is it?” He asks.

“November eighteenth, so Wednesday next week.”

“I don’t know, Sokka," Katara says cautiously. "Zuko never has liked doing anything for his birthday, maybe we should ask him before we throw something?”

Sokka squawks with indignation while flailing his arms.

“No way! He’ll just be like,” here he holds a hand over his left eye and furrows his brows, “I’d rather spend a quiet day in reading, but thanks.”

Katara can’t help but giggle, but she relents.

“Fine, you’re probably right. Still, I think we should keep it intimate.”

A grin begins to spread over Sokka’s face as an idea hits him.

“I’ve got it! Why don’t we take a road trip to Edmonton? We invite Iroh and Toph along, and Zuko gets to see Ursa and Kiyi while we’re at it.”

Aang’s head is spinning from all the names being thrown around. Also, why Edmonton?

“Guys, do you mind backing up? Explain your plan to the new guy.”

Katara looks at him sympathetically. “Sorry Aang, sometimes I forget you’re new. You’re already like a part of the family.”

Family. The word washes over him like warm honey. He feels syrupy, like he might just melt into his chair.

“Ursa and Kiyi are Zuko’s mother and half sister. They live in Edmonton. Kiyi was just accepted at the University of Alberta, so she’ll be living at home while she completes her undergrad.”

“Iroh is his uncle, the one who owns the Jasmine Dragon where Zuko’s a manager?” Sokka adds. “And Toph is another childhood friend of ours. You’ll love her.”

Now everything makes sense. He wonders how Zuko had neglected to tell him any of this over their phone calls. 

“Okay, well now that I know what you mean, I think that’s a great idea. Though…” Aang pauses for a moment. “I mean, would I be going along?”

Sokka and Katara look at him like he’s sprouted a second head.

“Well _obviously!_ You’re his boyfriend, you’re not gonna stay here. Think you could take the time off?”

Boyfriend… He really liked the sound of that, but he and Zuko hadn’t really talked labels yet. 

“I mean, we’ve only been dating for a couple weeks. It might be a little early for me to meet his whole family.”

Sokka is unimpressed. “Getting cold feet?”

“Actually, if I’m honest, I would really love to meet his family… I just don’t know if Zuko wants that yet.”

Katara gives Sokka a dirty look and moves to the edge of the couch so she can reach a hand over Aang’s.

“Why don’t you talk to him about it? We won’t make any other plans until you get an answer.”

Aang nods at her gratefully. 

“Thanks Katara, I’ll talk to him as soon as I can.” He decides he wants to have this conversation in person, it’s too important to have over text or even over the phone.

Aang spends the next little while making himself dinner and watching the next episode of whatever it was his roommates were watching before heading out to the White Lotus. It felt like a long day, but Zuko’s messages kept Aang in high spirits.

***

Sundays were always slower at the lounge, and Aang was glad for the opportunity to go at a more relaxed pace. Though he’d had a full night’s rest, at the expense of… _other_ enjoyable possibilities with Zuko, he felt tired. Working two jobs was going to catch up with him.

It was eleven at night, and there were only five tables seated at the moment, a few couples and a group of friends who looked to be celebrating a special occasion.

Aang stood behind the bar wearing a fitted black polo with the embroidered White Lotus logo over the left side of his chest, fixing drink orders as they popped up on the screen to his right. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone approaching the bar and taking a seat. 

“Be right with you!” He said as he finished pouring a shot of gin and looked up.

His heart almost stopped when he saw Zuko sitting at the bar, looking as gorgeous as ever.

His face almost hurt with how big he was smiling. He held up a finger, asking him to wait while he went to deliver a tray of cocktails on the floor. He swept from table to table, setting down drink orders with acrobatic ease and slipped back behind the bar. No new orders were on the screen, so he grabbed a glass and pulled out the bourbon, simple syrup, bitters, an orange and a cherry.

“Old Fashioned, on the house.” He says with a wink at Zuko as he starts to put the drink together. 

“You this friendly with every stranger at the bar?” Zuko teases, his tone light.

“Only the tall, dark and mysterious ones. Real talk though, I’m so happy you’re here.”

He can feel Zuko watching him work, and he puts a little more flourish into the preparation of the drink because of it. He pours the simple syrup in first, pulling his hand high above the glass, then adds water and bitters. He flicks a metal stir stick in circular motions to combine them, and drops the ice cubes so they clink delicately. For the final touch, he employs the high pour for the bourbon and adds the orange slice and maraschino cherry as garnishes.

He whisks the glass over to the end of the bar and slides it across the counter. Zuko reaches to take it, purposely letting his fingers rest over Aang’s as he does.

“Beautiful.” He says, and Aang isn’t sure he means the drink, or him. 

He lifts the glass to his lips and closes his eyes as he sips the golden concoction. A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he exhales.

“Best Old Fashioned I’ve ever had.” He says as he opens his eyes again. His gaze is heavy with something Aang can’t quite place, but the intensity of it sends a tingle down his spine.

“Then hopefully I’ll be seeing you at my counter in the future.” Aang says as he begins to clean the tumblers behind the bar. 

Zuko sort of reminds him of a cat - elegant and a little disdainful. And like a cat, his affections weren’t easily won. The fact that he crossed the city so late made Aang want to kiss him right there and then, professional decorum be damned. 

He looks over at the screen, and there are a couple new orders there. He puts down the tumbler and pulls out what he needs.

“Sokka said your birthday is next week.” He says finally, and though it’s a statement, there’s a bit of a question that slips into his tone. 

Zuko sighs audibly, and Aang smiles when he sees him roll his amber eyes.

“I keep telling him not to bother. I’d rather have a quiet day in, reading.”

Aang can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in his chest.

“That’s exactly what he said you’d say!” He’s still laughing as he holds the simple syrup aloft, trying not to spill it all over himself.

Zuko huffs theatrically.

Aang finally composes himself enough to continue fixing the pending orders.

“Actually,” he says carefully, “Sokka suggested a road trip to see your mother and sister in Edmonton. He said something about inviting your uncle Iroh, and a childhood friend named Toph?”

He’s glad to have his hands busy so he doesn’t need to look up right away. He doesn't know why, but his heart is in his throat as he waits for Zuko to reply.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen Kiyi and my mother,” he hears the tinkling of ice as Zuko takes another sip of his drink. “I guess that wouldn’t be a bad time.”

Aang had hoped Zuko would clue in to what he was trying to ask in a roundabout way, but if he had, he gave no indication of it. He felt ridiculous. He was a grown man, he would respect Zuko’s decision either way. Best to ask and get it over with.

“Would you be comfortable with me coming along?” He looks up to meet Zuko’s eyes, but he ensures his voice is light, so as not to influence his reply either way.

Zuko looks at him the same way Sokka and Katara had.

“I- Aang, I wouldn’t have it any other way. If I’m going to celebrate my thirtieth with the people I love, I want you to be there.”

Aang tries to hide the relief that floods him by setting the drink orders on a tray for the server who approaches the bar. He gives her a smile before turning back to Zuko.

“I didn’t want to assume, but I’m definitely looking forward to it.”

As midnight approaches, the tables begin to empty, and no one else seems to be coming in. 

“So,” Zuko draws the word out, pushing his empty glass back over the bar so it’s within easy reach for Aang to take. “I’m off work tomorrow. If you’re not working in the morning, you’re welcome to come back to my place once you’re done here.”

Aang is barely able to fight off where his mind takes him, as eagerness and excitement coil in his stomach.

“I’m actually off tomorrow, during the day. I do have another shift here in the evening, so that’s not a problem.” He pauses when he remembers what time it is. “But I probably won’t be by until three, maybe earlier if things are still slow. Are you sure?”

“I’ll be awake, don’t worry.” Zuko’s gaze is on him with the same golden intensity as before, and Aang now knows what it means. 

“Mind if I get a coffee before I go?” He asks finally. 

“Coming right up.”

***

It’s two a.m. when Aang is done, and he steps out into the frigid morning, shuddering against a cold breeze. He gets into his car and starts it, turning the heat up to high. He pulls out his phone and shoots off a quick text.

_Aang: I’m off early, you still okay with me coming by?_

It’s not even five seconds before he gets a reply.

_Zuko: More than okay. I’ll see you soon._

It takes a few minutes for his motor to warm up so he can start driving. He’s been working all day, and he hasn’t even had a chance to shower. He has no change of clothes, and no easy way to freshen up. 

Still, he decides that spending the night with Zuko is more important than his concerns. He doesn’t seem to be too sweaty, and he’s pretty sure he has some peppermint gum in the glove compartment.

He wished he had _something_ to give Zuko as a thank you for having him, for… well, for giving him space in his life. His heart was starting to clatter in his chest, and Aang realized he was actually… very nervous.

Aang still had so many questions about Zuko, about who he was. He wanted to know everything about him, what he loved, what he hated, what made him happy, and what made him sad. He wanted to be the one Zuko felt comfortable being himself with. The realization made him giddy - this beautiful enigma had invited him into his life, and into his home.

He daydreamed the rest of the twenty minute drive, the radio playing gently in the background of his thoughts. It wasn’t long before he was pulling into the guest parking of Zuko’s building. He was pleased to find he had been right about the pack of gum, and he popped one stick, chewing for a couple minutes to freshen up his breath before disposing of it in a tissue, which he stuffed down the side compartment of his car door. With no small amount of embarrassment, Aang pockets a bottle of lubricant he'd forgotten was also in the glove compartment. He guesses the timing couldn't be better, at least.

The winter air envelopes him as he steps out of his car and crosses the parking lot to the building. He's about to pull out his phone to text Zuko, but as he hops up the stone steps, he's surprised to find Zuko's already in the foyer. He's standing with his back resting against the wall, and of course he had a book in his hand. His hair hangs by his face, a dark frame against sharp, pale features. Aang lets his eyes roam, travelling the length of Zuko's arms, his waist, and his strong, slender legs. It wasn’t fair how beautiful he was.

Not wanting to startle him, Aang knocks gently on the glass. When Zuko looks up, his heart flutters at the sight of his honey golden eyes. Zuko smiles as he steps forward, opening the door to let Aang inside. Grateful to be out of the cold, Aang crosses the threshold with a contented sigh. He's about to say something in greeting, but he's cut off by Zuko’s mouth on his.

The kiss is a hot and hungry thing, and Aang’s mind goes blank as Zuko invades his mouth, their teeth clashing, and their tongues twining together. He tastes a little like bourbon and sweet coffee, and maybe a hint of mint? 

“Holy hell.” Aang gasps, coming up for air.

He almost trips when Zuko curls his fingers around his wrist, tugging him towards the stairs.

“I’m on the fourth floor.” He says impatiently.

Aang’s mind is swimming in the aftertaste of Zuko’s… he could hardly call it a kiss. It was more of an assault - the _best kind_ of assault.

The flights of stairs were short, but every new stair was a new enemy, coming between him and whatever glorious thing Zuko had planned. 

Finally, they reach the fourth floor and Zuko releases his wrist to lead him to the door of his apartment. He unlocks it with practiced ease and gestures for Aang to enter. 

No sooner had the door clicked locked behind them, Aang was held against the wall with Zuko’s arms caging him in on either side of his head. His amber eyes glow in the dim light of the moon through the living room bay window.

Aang doesn’t dare move. They stand like that for a small eternity, until Zuko bends his knee between Aang’s legs and presses his thigh into his groin. White hot desire makes Aang snap his head back against the wall and groan. This was his first mistake - with his neck bared, Zuko is on him, sucking and biting at the tender skin just under his jaw.

“Zuko…” His voice is hoarse. “God.”

“Coat off,” Zuko demands, deftly working at Aang’s buttons until he’s able to easily slide the offending item off his shoulders so it pools at his feet.

He wants to protest when Zuko steps back to remove his own coat and kick off his shoes, but he takes the opportunity to remove his boots as well. 

Fastidiously, Zuko swipes up his coat from the floor and hangs it on a hook on the opposite wall, next to his own. Amber eyes lock with his in the mirrored closet door before flicking to glance at himself. No hairs out of place. Good. Turning, he takes Aang’s hand to lead him through the apartment to his bedroom.

The room was simply furnished — just a double bed, a bedside dresser with a couple books piled on it, and a picture of Zuko with two women who Aang can only guess are his mother and sister.

Standing in the gloom next to the bed, something has changed in Zuko’s manner. It’s such a subtle shift that Aang thinks he might be imagining it. 

“I’m sorry,” Zuko’s voice is shaking a bit. “It seems I’m a bit nervous.”

“Zuko,” Aang whispers as he lifts his hands to cup his face. When Zuko winces as his thumb brushes over the rough skin of his scar, Aang's heart nearly breaks. 

A fierce and deep affection seizes him, and he crushes Zuko in a bear hug, gliding his lips over the left side of his face adoringly. He peppers the puckered skin with gentle kisses, finally coming to rest over Zuko’s brow.

“Zuko, you’re perfect.” He whispers.

There was something more to his scar, something Zuko wasn’t telling him. Aang was desperate to know, to pull down the wall and assure this incredible man that no matter what he might think, he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t wrong. He didn’t have to be afraid.

“We don’t have to do anything, you know.” He says gently, pulling back and tucking a stray hair behind Zuko’s good ear. “I’m just happy to be with you.”

Zuko sighs with frustration, letting his forehead fall to Aang’s shoulder.

“No, I want this… I want you.” 

The words send Aang’s blood southward, but he holds himself in check. Gently, he lifts Zuko’s head from his shoulder and guides him so his back is against the wall. 

“If you change your mind, all you need to do is say so." He holds Zuko's gaze, wanting him to know he's serious. "I’ll stop, no matter what.”

Zuko's honey amber eyes are a mosaic of emotions, many of which Aang thinks he understands. Tonight marks a lot of firsts. Zuko's first time sleeping with another man, and their first time sleeping together. In another situation, this night could have been casual, but there's weight to this choice that Aang knows they both feel. Tonight leads to a future paved with possibility, and neither of them know what that means.

Aang waits quietly, and finally Zuko nods.

Feeling his heart leap in his chest, Aang leans in and slants his mouth over Zuko’s. This time, he kisses him slowly, lovingly. He pours himself into every brush of their lips, every movement of their mouths. _I'm here._ He tries to say. _I'm with you. It's just us._

He lets his fingers play over the buttons of his shirt, undoing them from the top down until he can push it off Zuko’s shoulders. Here, he ghosts his lips over the exposed skin, appreciating the taut muscle, but also aware of the tension there. He brings his hands up to Zuko's shoulders and massages gently, trailing his lips across his broad chest as he does. He hears Zuko sigh just as he feels warm hands caressing his forearms, sending shivers skittering down his spine.

Lifting his head, Aang meets Zuko's lidded eyes once more. He doesn't say anything, letting his expression ask for him. _Are you alright?_

In answer, Zuko lays one hand over Aang's and squeezes gently. He smiles, barely curving his lips.

When Zuko closes his eyes, Aang takes it as permission to continue. He tilts his head to press his lips to his throat, nipping and kissing his way down until his mouth comes to rest at the place where Zuko's neck and shoulder meet. Here, Aang bites down just so, and the moan this elicits - it's like nothing Aang could have imagined, and he wonders how many more ways he can earn the sound.

Idly, Aang acknowledges the part of him that is all instinct - it wants to go straight to the taking. But having Zuko beneath him, so trusting, makes him feel like worshipping him in every way he can. 

Slowly, he lowers his hands over the button of Zuko’s jeans and makes quick work of it, and he pushes down on the hem on either side of his slender hips. Not hesitating, Zuko shimmies out of his jeans and boxers, toeing them to one side. His breathing is ragged now as Aang takes him in. He’s gorgeously toned, tight muscle under smooth milky skin. His chest rises and falls with his breathing, and Aang lowers his mouth to a nipple, using his thumb and forefinger to tease the other. He bites down and sucks, and Zuko moans loudly. 

Something transforms between them then, the hesitation melts away. Aang feels himself falling, losing himself to the intoxication of the moment.

“Aang, damn it.” Zuko's voice is strained. “Just… fuck.”

“Mm?” He teases, pulling back and swirling his tongue over the hardened nib. He pinches the other experimentally, and he has to hold back a chuckle when Zuko arches into his touch. Zuko - the picture of elegance and poise, and now...

“Aang!” He cries his name with desperation, begging. And gods, Aang _hurts_ with want.

He drops to his knees, and this is the first time he lets himself appreciate Zuko's nakedness in full. His erection stands at attention, dripping with precum. Looking up to meet Zuko's eyes, Aang gives him a small smile, laying his hands gently on his bony hips. He closes his eyes and leans in, dragging his lips across the sensitive skin just above his throbbing member. He kisses him reverently, taking his time. He can hear Zuko's tortured breathing as he brings one hand down to cup his sac, squeezing gently. Aang feels the stretch of Zuko's stomach and looks up through his eyelashes to see his head thrown back in ecstasy. The sight sends lightning shooting through his veins.

He brings his eyes back to Zuko's sex, and his mouth waters at the sight of his dripping head. Eagerly, he leans forward and licks, swallowing it down. And gods, Zuko tastes like heaven - salty, with the barest hint of spice. He hears a muffled gasp above him, and smiling, he takes Zuko's full length into his mouth, closing his lips around him.

Zuko bucks his hips, and Aang holds him firm against the wall as he clings to his shoulders biting back a scream.

"Aang," he moans. "Aang, Aang, Aang..." 

Aang feels his own erection straining against his jeans, but ignores it. He wants to give Zuko everything. His own pleasure can wait.

He swirls his tongue around the head of Zuko's length, sucking, but careful to keep his teeth away. He savours how smooth Zuko feels against his tongue, then, opening his throat, he takes Zuko as deep as he can. He hears sharp breaths above him, and he moves, running his tongue along his lover's length as he does. Once Zuko is coated in saliva, Aang fists his hand at the base of him and strokes, allowing his mouth more flexibility around Zuko's head. 

The sounds Zuko is making are sinful, going straight to Aang's groin. The throbbing of his own desire is increasingly distracting, even verging on painful. He wants Zuko with a desperation he never knew he could feel before.

With a tortured groan, he feels Zuko push him off.

"Do you want to stop?" He asks breathlessly. Looking up, he drinks in the sight above him; Zuko is perfectly disheveled. His hair is a mess, and his pupils are blown wide. His hands are flat against the wall to steady himself as he pants.

“I- goddammit, I want you inside me.”

And that’s all it takes. Rising to stand, Aang crashes his mouth against Zuko’s, forcing his lips apart to dominate his mouth. He curls his fingers in his dark hair and sucks on Zuko’s tongue, moaning into the kiss as he presses his own thigh between his lover's legs. He hears Zuko growl as he thrusts into his thigh, desperate for friction.

"Aang."

Zuko's hands claw at his back, pulling himself flush against Aang’s body, and they come together like two halves looking for each other in the dark.

Unable to wait any longer, Aang sweeps his arms under Zuko’s backside and lifts him over to the bed. He’s a beautiful mess, his lips slightly parted, his amber eyes clouded with lust.

Reaching into his back pocket, Aang retrieves the small bottle of lubricant.

“Are you still okay?” He asks quietly.

“Yes.” Zuko says hoarsely. 

So he crawls onto the bed and seats himself on his heels between Zuko’s legs, pulling his ankles to rest over his shoulders.

“This might be uncomfortable at first.” He says gently as he coats his fingers in lubricant and brings his index to Zuko’s entrance, gently massaging before pushing inside. He watches Zuko’s face as he closes his eyes, controlling his breathing.

“You alright?”

“‘M alright.”

Aang moves his hand back and forth gently, curling his finger to stretch his lover slowly. Soon, he’s able to bury his finger to the knuckle. He moves inside him carefully until he’s sure Zuko’s ready to take two fingers. 

Zuko’s breathing is labored, his hands fisting the comforter as Aang fingers him, pushing inside him to his knuckles and spreading his fingers apart. He finds Zuko’s prostate and applies just the slightest amount of pressure. 

“Christ, Aang.”

Yep, that was it.

“We’re almost there.” He says soothingly as he adds a third finger. Zuko is moaning openly now, his eyes are screwed shut. He starts to move his hips, bearing down on Aang’s fingers. 

Satisfied, Aang pulls his fingers away, earning him a forlorn protest. 

“Trust me.”

He stands to undress himself, peeling off his polo, pants and his boxer briefs, and climbs back onto the bed, resuming his position between Zuko’s legs.

Zuko's eyes rove from Aang's head to... well, everywhere.

“You’re gorgeous.” Zuko growls. “Come here.”

Aang obliges, capturing his lips in a slow kiss. He feels strong thighs wrap around his back as Zuko thrusts up with his erection, grinding their lengths together. 

“Please.” The gentleness of Zuko’s plea catches Aang off guard. It’s a complete one-eighty from the desperate lust just a moment before. “Please, Aang.”

_I love you._

Aang’s breath catches when he thinks it. It’s been _two weeks._ But damn it, he’s falling. Too hard, too fast.

Settling his weight back on his heels, Aang slicks himself with lubricant with a couple careful strokes and lines himself up with Zuko’s opening.

“Still okay?” He checks, not leaving anything to chance.

Zuko’s eyes are soft with affection now. He laces his fingers with Aang’s and nods.

He takes the first thrust, and his own moan rips itself from deep in his chest. Zuko is so tight, his contractions sending hot fire up his spine. He forces himself to breathe, moving his hips slowly. His eyes are glued to Zuko's face, watching his expression carefully. If he sees even a hint of discomfort, he promises himself he'll stop.

But no such thing occurs. Zuko's hands are resting on Aang's thighs, holding onto him for dear life as Aang moves inside him. 

Privately, Aang allows himself one sin - this isn't just sex. He gives himself permission to think it - _I'm making love to Zuko._

He communicates his feelings with every caress, every kiss, with every whispered word in Zuko's ear. His heart is pounding in his chest, his pulse rushing in his ears as adoration spreads through him.

He leans forward, pulling Zuko’s hands to pin them above his head, and he thrusts deeper. 

Zuko cries out, his mouth hanging open as he gasps for air. 

“Brace yourself against the headboard.” Aang tells him, and he does.

Letting Zuko’s wrists go, he drops his hands to his hips, holding him steady. After a brief pause, he rams himself deep, immediately picking up the pace of their love making. Beneath him, Zuko is reduced to an incoherent mess of expletives and barely controlled cries as Aang fucks him, hard and fast. He writhes beneath him, and Aang buries himself to his hilt, over and over and over, building to a frenzied rhythm of skin slapping skin. The bed rocks with their movement, and gods, Zuko feels incredible around him.

“I- I’m going to-” but Zuko’s words die in his throat as his climax takes him, letting loose the most wonderful strangled moan as it does.

Aang’s vision goes white when Zuko shudders and contracts around him, cumming hard and long.

It takes everything he has to slow his pace. He wants to press on, but he stills to allow Zuko to shudder through his orgasm. 

“What are you doing?” He demands. “Don’t you dare stop until you’ve come inside me.”

“Fuck.” It wasn’t a word Aang allowed to pass his lips often, but damn if it wasn’t earned.

“Yes. Fuck me. Fuck me into next week, Aang. I’m yours.”

Aang was lost, so very lost. He could barely breathe as he drove himself deep and hard, rocking the bed, repeating his forbidden mantra as he did.

_I love you I love you I love you._

All at once, his orgasm crashes over him, and Aang is momentarily blinded as pleasure takes him. His back arching, and his mouth dropping open in a silent cry as climax rocks his body. He feels himself spill into Zuko, filling him.

He shudders one last time and falls limply over his lover, trying to catch his worthless breath.

As he lays struggling to compose himself, he can feel Zuko kissing the top of his head, his brow, his nose. 

“Aang, that was… incredible.” He whispers. “You’re incredible.”

After a few minutes recovering his senses, Aang pulls out and rolls to the side so he’s laying beside Zuko, their heads sharing the same pillow. His amber eyes are half lidded, and he leans forward, kissing Aang’s swollen lips gently, innocently.

They pause briefly to clean themselves up with a few tissues, and once they're done, Zuko rests his arm over Aang, their legs entwined.

“You’re not in pain?” Aang asks, afraid he may have been too rough.

Zuko shakes his head. “I might be tomorrow.”

Maybe it’s the high, maybe it’s Zuko’s beautiful smile, but the next words out of Aang’s mouth sneak past his careful filter.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” 

The surprise on Zuko’s face makes him regret his words immediately.

“I’m sorry, it’s too soon.” Of course it's too soon, he chides. He furrows his brow, agonizing. “You don’t owe me anything, please know that.”

Zuko is quiet for a long time. But finally, he pulls Aang’s hand to his mouth, kissing his palm.

“It scares me,” he admits, “but I think I’m falling in love with you, too.”

The words linger, echoing in the quiet of Zuko's room. Aang smiles as unadulterated joy floods him, and he pulls Zuko to his chest, holding him tight.

He knows this is just the beginning. Experience tells him he and Zuko have a long way to go before their relationship is stable, but he's happy. There was still so much to learn, and he was ready for it. Good and bad, Aang wanted it all.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing love scenes is hard, man.


	5. Bohemian Rhapsody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter is pure fluff, but I swear it's important to get the plot rolling. Things are gonna get interesting real soon. Thanks for sticking with me!

It’s eleven thirty when Zuko awakes. His blinds do little to keep the bright sun from bathing his room in light. He’s groggy, his thoughts coming to him at a sluggish pace. Vaguely, he registers the dip of his mattress next to him, and it takes a minute for his sleep-addled brain to remember that he hadn’t spent the night alone.

_Aang._

Slowly opening his eyes, Zuko finds Aang is already up, and he’s… meditating? He’s wearing his boxers, seated with his legs crossed under him and his hands cradled in his lap. His eyes are closed, his back resting against the wall.

The golden light of morning makes his skin glow, and if Zuko lets his eyes unfocus, his tattoos almost look like rippling stripes of sky or water. He’s the personification of a summer’s day, his tattoos like a stream running through the hills that are his arms and his legs, his breath like a warm breeze. And god, he’s just so beautiful.

Not wanting to break the spell Aang appears to be under, Zuko remains quiet, not daring to move. He lets his mind revisit memories of last night, flushing as he does. He wasn’t sure he had shared that kind of passion with his previous partner; something so all-consuming - Aang had overwhelmed all his senses, physically, mentally and, much to his surprise, emotionally as well. The intimacy they had shared had blown Zuko’s expectations away. He never knew he could _feel_ the way he had - so far gone. It was like he’d been marooned, and Aang had been the ship that saved him. It was strange, Zuko thought, he hadn’t realized he’d been in need of saving. 

Finally, stone grey eyes flutter open, summoning the image of a rocky bed of a bubbling creek to Zuko’s mind once more. 

As soon as Aang notices him looking, a wide smile spreads over his lips.

“Good morning.” He says, affection lacing his voice. 

Zuko sits up and reaches, he cups Aang’s cheek, and leans in to kiss him. He feels the warmth of his breath before their mouths meet, and he loves the easy comfort of it - gone is the trepidation and doubt. He can kiss Aang and know he _wants_ to be kissed. They move their lips together, unhurried and sweet. 

“Good morning to you too.” Zuko says as the kiss breaks. “How long have you been up?”

“Not long, maybe twenty minutes? A half hour?”

“Do you always meditate after waking up?”

He nods. “Yeah, it’s a habit Gyatso taught me. I feel off if I don’t. I recommend it, honestly. It can really take the edge off any stress you’re carrying.”

“Maybe I’ll try it sometime.” Zuko replies, leaning back on his hands. He realizes he’s still naked, and he also realizes that a shower would probably be a good idea.

“I’m thinking of getting washed up. Would you, uh, well.” He’s baffled by his sudden shyness. Where was the bravado from last night? “I mean, would you like to join me?”

Aang laughs his musical laugh, slapping a hand on his knee as he does.

“How are you real?” He says it goodnaturedly, but it makes Zuko blush. In a strange moment of uncharacteristic self-deprecation, he buries his face in his hands.

“I don’t even know.”

This just causes Aang to laugh harder. He feels gentle kisses pressed to his shoulder and lifts his head again.

“Of course I’d like to join you.”

***

After some very pleasant fooling around in the shower, Zuko and Aang are dressed and in the kitchen. 

“Let me help, it’s the least I can do.” Aang insists. He’s leaning against the counter across from the stove where Zuko is currently poaching two eggs. He’d prepared the avocado butter the night before, anticipating Aang staying the night. He also has two pieces of bread browning in the toaster.

“Forget it. I’m making you breakfast, and you’re going to let me.”

Aang exaggerates a sigh, but he relents. Instead, he moves to stand behind Zuko, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his neck.

Pleasant chills play across Zuko’s shoulders and down his spine, and he moves instinctively to give Aang easier access. He’s also trying to pay attention to the eggs currently on the stove. If he takes them off the heat even a few seconds too late, they’ll be overdone.

“God help you if these eggs end up burnt, Aang.” He mutters, but he relishes the attention. 

Chuckling, Aang pulls his lips away and rests his chin on Zuko’s shoulder. 

“If I can’t help, I’ll hinder.” He says playfully.

“Fine, then you can get the avocado butter out of the fridge for me. Spread it over the toast when it’s ready. Shouldn’t be long now.”

Aang plants a final kiss at the base of Zuko’s jaw and does as he’s asked. 

It isn’t long before they’re both seated at the glass table in the living room with perfectly poached eggs sitting atop a piece of avocado toast each. Zuko bought a nice bottle of champagne and orange juice to fix mimosas, which he’s poured into flute glasses. The champagne bubbles merrily upward as they eat.

Aang looks utterly enamoured. 

“You didn’t have to do any of this.”

“I know, but I wanted to.” Really, Zuko was a sucker for special occasions, other than his birthday. He and Aang had reached the first milestone in their relationship, why not celebrate?

Ah, his birthday.

“I guess I better start planning that roadtrip with Sokka.” He says thoughtfully. “Your schedule is the busiest, when would you be free?”

Aang swallows a bite of breakfast before replying. 

“It’s a little short notice, so I might need a week or more to get a couple days off, but if that doesn’t work for you, don’t wait up on my account.”

Zuko quirks his good brow at him. “You still think I’m about to leave you behind? I’m sure my uncle and mother would appreciate more time to plan as well. So just let us know when you’re able to easily take the time off. We’ll probably be overnighting on a weekend.”

Aang beams at him. “I know, but I honestly wouldn’t be hurt if you had to go without me. Just knowing you want me along is enough. That being said, I’ll see if I can get the next weekend off.”

Zuko shakes his head. Aang was so wonderfully hopeless. 

***

Two weeks later, the road trip is on. There’s a few of them, so they agree that Toph will go with Sokka and Katara, and Iroh will ride with Zuko and Aang. They decide to take Zuko’s car because it’s a little roommier, and because he has dedicated winter tires on rather than all seasons, which is what Aang has on his. 

Zuko spent the night before so they could all leave from the same place. Iroh and Toph meet them at the townhouse early so they can all set off together.

After a round of quick introductions, with a promise to talk more later, they pile into their respective vehicles and set off on the three hour drive.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Aang.” Iroh says pleasantly from the front passenger seat. Aang had insisted he take it. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Zuko’s ears burn, and he opens his mouth to protest, but Aang is already answering.

“I’ve heard a lot about you too. Zuko adores you.” 

Zuko wants to disappear. Of course he _adores_ his uncle, but it's not the phrasing he would choose. Why did he ever think being with his uncle and Aang in a car for three hours was a good idea?

They proceed to chat, and Zuko listens, occasionally interjecting with his own stories, bouncing off whatever topic they were on.

“One of my favourite memories of my nephew as a child is the time he saved a rat from a stray cat. He wrestled the rat away, and it bit him. My brother had to rush him to the hospital to make sure he didn’t contract rabies.” Here, Iroh shakes his head.

Aang is chuckling at Iroh’s story in the backseat, he seems positively charmed.

“Actually, I meant to ask - Zuko, you’d mentioned your dad was busy when you were a kid. Will I meet him tonight too?”

The mention of his father puts him on edge. He’s avoided talking about him with Aang until now.

“My parents divorced a long time ago. We don’t really see each other, he’s busy with his career as one of Alberta’s top surgeons.”

Zuko manages to keep his tone light, but the resentment and bitterness that coils in his chest settles there. 

And because Aang’s empathy meter seemed to perpetually be dialled up to eleven, he picks up on the undertone in Zuko’s words. He just nods and changes the subject.

About two hours into the trip, Iroh and Aang have traded as many stories as they can think of, and they drive in comfortable silence for a while. That is, until Aang leans between the seats, resting his elbows on the centre console.

“Mind if I bluetooth my phone to your car?” He asks Zuko. 

Of course he doesn’t mind, and he hits a button on his dash to allow Aang to connect his device. A few minutes pass and then the crooning voice of Freddy Mercury floats from the speakers.

“Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?”

Oh no.

“Are we really doing this?” Zuko moans.

“It’s the single best road trip song!” Aang protests, and he starts singing along to Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody. Quite well, actually. And much to Zuko’s dismay, so does his uncle. 

“Mama! Ooooooh! Didn’t mean to make you cry…”

“Come on nephew, join in!” Iroh says with a laugh. 

He listens to the lilting instrumental of the guitar and cymbals until the song picks up to the aggressive staccato of “Thunderbolts and lightning, very, very frightening-”

Here, Aang chimes in with as much a falsetto he can muster, singing out “Galileo!” He doesn't quite hit the note, but it still sounds pretty good. Iroh sings along, aiming to hit the echoed baritone.

Oh, fine. Screw it.

With the music cresting, Zuko throws in everything he’s got, coming in at “He’s just a poor boy, from a poor family.”

He doesn't try to sing so much as shout melodically, knowing he isn’t gifted with a singing voice.

“MAMA MIA! MAMA MIA!” They all shout together, "Mama mia let me go. Beezelbub has a devil put aside for me, for me!" Then the guitar starts back up, and he sees Aang launching into an air guitar concert through the rearview mirror.

Zuko finds himself laughing. He feels ridiculous, but he’s loving how much his uncle and Aang are enjoying themselves.

“Just gotta get out! Just gotta get out, just gotta get right out of here.” They all sing along, completely out of harmony.

The song ends with the melancholy “Anywhere the wind blows”, and the car explodes with laughter. Zuko’s face hurts with it. He can’t remember the last time he laughed this hard, or this much. Even his abs ache with the exertion.

“See? Best road trip song.” Aang says with a self-satisfied grin.

“Alright, I’ll admit that was pretty good.”

“And there’s more where that came from.”

The next hour is spent singing to more popular songs like Carry On Wayward Son, Come and Get Your Love, All Night Long and other classics. By the time they’re in Edmonton, Zuko’s throat is raw. Aang is still playing music, but mostly just for ambiance. He hears him humming gently along from the backseat. 

Taking one hand off the steering wheel and holding it over his shoulder, he dangles it over the back of his seat. It’s only a moment before he feels Aang’s fingers lace through his own. He gives him a gentle squeeze before taking his hand back. 

From the corner of his eye, he can see Iroh looking at him with a warm smile.

***

A few minutes later, he pulls into the driveway of a blue two storey house that sits on a quaint little block just on the outside of town. Zuko gets out of the car, and Iroh and Aang follow his lead. Sokka is parked on the street, and he, Toph and Katara are already at the front door greeting Ursa and Kiyi with a hug each. 

When Kiyi sees him, she bounds down the wooden steps and flies into his arms, nearly knocking him over. He stays steady, using the momentum to fling her around once before setting her down.

“Hey Zuzu!” She says merrily. “Happy belated birthday!”

“Hey Ki.” He says with a smile, mussing her hair. She bristles, trying to angle herself out of his reach. She’s eighteen, but she’ll always be his little sister.

“Look how much you’ve grown!” Iroh says holding his arms out to Kiyi for a hug. She smiles hugely and wraps her arms around him.

Aang is standing next to Zuko, smiling gently. Zuko had told his mother and Kiyi he was dating someone new, but he hadn’t gone into the specifics. He wasn’t worried about his family accepting whoever he brought home with open arms, but he figured Aang might feel a little self-conscious. 

“Ki, this is my boyfriend, Aang.” He says, testing out the title for the first time. He hadn’t needed to use the label before, and he feels it doesn’t really do Aang justice. Still, the meaning it holds feels right. He watches Aang’s face, seeing his expression unfurl like a flower at sunrise. He’s looking at Zuko with so much warmth, he might melt on the spot.

Kiyi beams at Aang and holds her hand out to shake.

“Hey Aang, I'm Kiyi. It's a pleasure!” 

Aang beams back, taking her hand and shaking. He squeaks a little when she suddenly pulls him into a hug.

“Come on! Mum really wants to meet you.”

Zuko watches as Aang picks up his overnight bag in one hand, and a pack of winter ale in the other, trailing behind his sister up the steps to the front door. 

“I really like that boy, Zuko.” He hears his uncle say as he approaches from behind. “I don’t think I’ve seen you so happy.”

Zuko can’t help the blush that heats his face. 

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“You make him happy, too. It’s easy to see.”

Zuko blushes deeper. Feeling like a teenager again, he huffs and stalks ahead.

“He’s a naturally happy person. I don’t know where he gets his energy.”

Iroh laughs as he follows him, toting a bag and a bottle of wine.

Though he won’t admit it aloud, his uncle’s words go right to his heart. 

Ursa is waiting for him at the top of the steps with a smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes. He climbs to the landing and pulls his mother into a tight hug.

“Hey mom. Nice to see you again.”

“Happy birthday, Zuko.” She says, pulling back. “You never said this new person in your life was gorgeous _and_ charming. He’s a double threat.”

“He’s a threat in more ways than you know.” Zuko says, rolling his eyes. “He made me sing Bohemian Rhapsody with him and uncle on the way here.”

Ursa bursts out laughing, covering her mouth with a hand. “Well then, he must be something very special.” She gestures for Zuko to continue on inside while she greets Iroh behind him.

“Hey old man.” Toph stands in the foyer wearing a green dress that’s cinched at the waist with a belt. “Happy thirtieth. You’re gonna die soon.”

Zuko shakes his head, but he pulls her into a hug.

“I’m going to outlive you all.” He says defiantly.

“Oh, he will.” Sokka cuts in. “Just out of spite.”

“So are you gonna introduce me to this guy you’re lovesick over, or what?” She says with her hands on her hips. 

Aang and Katara are settled down in the living room, and Aang looks up with curiosity.

“Did he actually say that?” Aang asks, much too innocently.

“I never said-”

“Oh, it wasn’t you. It’s just all I hear from Sokka and Katara.” Toph says simply, making her way to the living room. “Now get over here.”

Toeing off his shoes, Zuko enters the familiar room. 

“Aang, this is Toph.” He says with exaggerated irreverence. “Toph, this is Aang, my boyfriend.” Again, he uses the title for Aang’s benefit.

Toph reaches out a hand. “Nice to meet you. In case you’re doing anything with your face, I just want to let you know I’m blind and can’t see it.”

Aang chuckles and takes her hand to shake it. 

“Mostly I’m just grinning. I look forward to partnering with you to tease Zuko in the future.”

Zuko groans, his shoulders slumping. “Getting you all together was a mistake. This is why I don’t do birthdays.”

“Aw, cheer up!” Katara chirps. “This is your day. We can probably afford to stop teasing you for the next, oh, hour or so?”

“But after that, you’re fair game.” Sokka says, punching him in the arm.


	6. Love

It’s noon, and everyone hits the kitchen to help prepare a number of dishes for dinner. The room is spacious enough to accommodate most of them, but there’s only so much counter space. So the dining room table is allocated for chopping and mixing. Knowing they were having a potluck, everyone had agreed ahead of time on what to prepare. Aang had opted to make sweet and sour tofu with pineapple, Ursa was making pork cutlet, Katara was working on cooking up some filets of salmon, and Iroh prepared congee, with a vegetable broth base for Aang, and put on the first pot of tea of many. 

Meanwhile, Zuko, Kiyi, Sokka, and Toph were doing all the chopping and mixing in a production line while putting together a large charcuterie board, adding fruit and sliced baguette with jams and jellies.

Fearing that his dish was lacking, Aang was sweating bullets as he cooked. He’d tasted everything as he went along, to the point that he couldn’t really make out any real difference in the flavours anymore. He wasn’t normally this nervous, but he was cooking for Zuko’s family, and he wanted to make a good impression. He could fix the best drinks ‘til sundown, but he mostly cooked for himself. What if it was inedible? 

In a fit of panic, he rushed over to Zuko pinching a single piece of sweet and sour tofu between two chopsticks. 

“Do you mind tasting this for me? Do you think it’s alright?” He asked, unable to keep the desperation out of his voice. “Is it too bland? I can’t serve this if it’s too bland.”

Zuko gave him a quizzical look, but much to Aang’s delight, and mostly because his hands were busy, Zuko opened his mouth for Aang to feed him. Unfortunately, Sokka didn’t fail to notice the moment, and proceeded to gag theatrically.

“Eugh, you guys are so gross. Get a room.”

Aang gave Sokka an apologetic grin over his shoulder, then turned back to Zuko, eager for his thoughts.

“It’s fine, Aang. You’re overthinking this.” 

“Okay, but like, good fine, or bad fine?” 

Zuko rolled his eyes and moved to elbow him in the side. 

“It’s delicious. I’m sure everyone will love it.”

He didn’t necessarily trust Zuko to be unbiased, but it was the only review he had to go on. Swallowing his nerves, he headed back to finish up prep.

Two hours passed, and finally it was time to make the cake. This was a much less involved affair, so only Aang, Ursa and Katara stayed in the kitchen to help while everyone else made their way to the dining room to set the table for dinner. 

By four p.m., the table was laden with everyone’s cooking, so there was more food than table space. Everything looked and smelled delicious as everyone took their seats in no particular order. Aang decided to leave both seats open next to Zuko so he could visit with his mother and Kiyi, but made a point to sit across from him so he was still close. 

Much to his relief, everyone seemed to be eating his dish without leaving any on their plates. Finally, he felt the tension in his shoulders loosen as he relaxed into the conversation.

He loved the atmosphere that had come to life around the dinner table. Everyone chatted animatedly, trading stories, talking over each other and under each other, laughing and sometimes yelling. The sound of glass and cutlery clinking set the backdrop to everyone’s loud chatter. He took particular joy in corroborating stories with Zuko that had happened over the last month. Everyone loved the story of how they met at Sokka’s Halloween party (and Sokka had made a point of emphasizing how lovesick Zuko and Aang had been for each other from the beginning.) 

“Zuko was practically drooling when he saw Aang the first time!” He’d said to uproarious laughter. Aang had relished the sight of Zuko turning a bright shade of red at the statement.

Currently, Zuko was telling Aang’s favourite story thus far.

“So Aang works the overnight shift at a lounge - he’s the bartender. And he’s constantly bringing home pocketfulls of receipts with people’s numbers on them. It’s ridiculous.”

Here, Aang jumps in, knowing it’s his cue. “And Zuko wasn’t particularly happy about it, so we made a plan for him to come in on a busy night when the regulars would be in. He sat at the bar until a group of girls arrived. A couple of them had left me their numbers before.”

Here Zuko rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. He leans forward, his hand out in front of him.

“They’re all over him. And on the one hand, I can’t really blame them, but a man can only take so much.”

Aang laughs. “So I go to the end of the bar where Zuko’s sitting, and, well, I had to make it count-”

“You went a little overboard.” Zuko concedes.

“Yeah, well, I had a point to make. So I grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him across the bar-”

“I was not expecting him to pull so hard, so I half-collapsed over the counter.” Here, Zuko demonstrates with his hands, folding one at a ninety degree angle over the other.

“-and, y’know. I made sure there could be no doubt about my relationships status.”

“My lip was bleeding, Aang.”

Aang blushes, scratching the back of his neck.

“I said I was sorry, didn’t I? Plus, I got heck from my boss after my shift. But it seems to have worked. Haven’t had any new numbers come my way since.”

This causes everyone to break out into laughter and follow up questions, then the conversation branches off from there. It was so comfortable and easy. It was like… well, like they were all one happy family. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed it until he was right there in it.

“So, since it’s Zuko’s celebration, I think it’s only right that we tell embarrassing stories about him in front of his boyfriend.” Katara suggests with an evil smirk on her face, emboldened by a few drinks.

“You will do no such thing.” Zuko says, trying to sound stern.

“Oh, me! Me! I have one!” Kiyi shouts from her seat. 

Aang was thrilled as everyone took their turn around the table, trying to top each other with their story while Zuko tried to shrink away in his chair. Stories about his childhood, about his high school days, when he ran with the goth and emo scene. Sokka had even pulled out his phone to thumb through old Facebook photos to show Aang, holding his phone out of reach of a loudly protesting Zuko.

“I hate you all.” He’d muttered.

Once everyone had finished up dinner, Ursa brought out the still-warm red velvet cake, leading everyone in singing Zuko the birthday song. They’d opted for candles in the shapes of a three and a zero, which he blew out easily. Then he cut the cake and served slices to everyone around the table. That was when everyone pulled out their gifts, and Zuko accepted them graciously. He received a bottle of his favourite bourbon with a set of whiskey glasses and a few books he’d said he was interested in.

Aang could barely believe it, but Zuko was even more beautiful than usual - he looked radiant, surrounded by all these people who loved him. He was like the sun, bathing the room in warmth. 

Zuko must have noticed the dreamy look he was giving him, because he quirked his brow in his direction. Aang just smiled back.

Finally, Zuko was opening Aang’s gift. Aang had thought about giving him the present on the actual day of his birthday, but it hadn’t been ready. With the madness of his schedule, Aang only had a few hours to himself for the last two weeks to work on it.

It was a small rectangular package wrapped in simple brown paper, and Aang held his breath as Zuko unwrapped it. He was holding a small and thin cardboard box, which he opened to find a wooden necklace with the yin and yang symbol carved into the centre of it and small accent lines all around the circular frame. It hung from an adjustable black leather chord. He watched as Zuko picked up the folded note beneath the pendant and began to read.

Aang’s heart leapt into his throat as he recalled what he’d written:

_Who I am now couldn’t exist without you, just like Yin can’t exist without Yang. You are my other half, my balance and my centre. I only hope that I can be the same for you. I carved this by hand, and I hope you’ll wear it and remember that you’re never alone._

_Happy birthday, Zuko._

_Love, Aang._

Zuko looks up from the note with an expression that is so raw, Aang wants to pull him into a protective hug. 

Smiling, Zuko picks the pendant from the box and pulls the chord loose to pull over his head. Once it’s laying against his chest, he thumbs the polished wood lovingly as he admires Aang’s handiwork. Then he lifts his face to smile in a way that stops Aang's heart. It’s so sincere and open, like nothing he’s seen before. 

“Thank you, Aang. I love it.”

***

After the cake, everyone helped clear the table and wash the dishes. With eight people working together, it didn’t take long to make the kitchen spotless. The moment it was done, Sokka was in the living room setting up a couple of bluetooth speakers and pushing the furniture back against the walls.

“That’s it, people. Now we get this party started.”

Everyone poured themselves another drink, or grabbed a bottle of beer and made their way to the makeshift dance floor. Sokka had an eclectic playlist with songs from hip hop to rap to romantic ballads and techno swing. Sokka, Toph, Kiyi and Katara formed a circle and danced together, jumping and swaying. Zuko sat with Ursa and Iroh at the dining room table, and Aang wasn’t going to stand for it. 

One song came on that Aang thought was particularly bumping. He read the song title gliding across Sokka’s phone screen - Light Up The Night by Jamie Berry. Seeing an opportunity, he crossed the room and held out a hand to Ursa.

“May I have this dance?” He said with as much charm as he could muster, bowing as he did. 

His performance earned him a laugh. Ursa shook her head, but she took his hand, allowing Aang to pull her over to the dance floor where they did a little impromptu swing number to the best of their ability - neither of them trained in the style. But Aang spun her out, then around, and in for a dip. Not to be beat, Ursa did the same for him. He let her dip him, exaggerating the arch of his back over her arm. 

By the end of the song, Ursa was ready to keep dancing, and she gestured for Iroh to join her.

“With Ikem away on business, you’re going to have to be my dance partner!” She said to him.

Iroh smiled and stood, joining Ursa on the floor.

Then it was just Zuko left sitting at the table, and Aang takes a seat next to him. He’d been careful to keep his hands in check, not wanting to overstep boundaries with Zuko's family around. So he's pleased when he feels an arm slide around his waist, pulling him close. He sighs happily and rests his head on Zuko's shoulder.

“Thank you again.” Zuko says quietly.

Aang smiles and lifts his head so he’s looking into Zuko’s bright amber eyes. He feels the words escaping him before he registers what he’s saying.

“I love you.”

There’s a beat, and Aang isn’t sure what to do. He’d avoided saying the words for the last two weeks, though it had been easier because his schedule had kept him apart from Zuko for most of that time. 

Zuko’s eyes softened, and Aang was surprised when he felt his strong hand come up to cup the back of his neck, pulling him forward to rest their lips together for just a fraction of a second. He pulled back, his eyes like pools of melted golden honey.

“I love you, too.” 

It felt like the world around them had disappeared, and there was only this single shining moment. The next thing he knew, Aang had tears running down his face.

“Aang?” Zuko’s eyes widen in concern. “Aang? What’s wrong?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, nothing is wrong.” He uses the back of his sleeve to scrub the tears away. “I’m just happy. Like, really happy.”

Aang only realized now how alone he’d felt before he’d met Zuko. Since Gyatso died, he’d refused to let himself wallow too long. He’d forged ahead with his career, making friends along the way. But it was only now that he sat with Zuko, looking out onto the faces of his newly found family that he felt like he had found a new place he could call his home.

Zuko pulled him into a one-armed hug, holding Aang’s hand with the other.

“Yin and Yang go both ways, Aang. You’re not alone either.”

The unsaid part of Zuko’s sentence was laid bare in Aang’s heart. _I’m with you._

Overwhelmed with affection, all Aang wanted to do was drag Zuko to a bedroom and show him every way he loved him, from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet. But they were currently under Zuko’s mother’s roof, so any kind of alone time was out of the question. He needed to channel his feelings another way.

“Will you dance with me?” He asked finally.

Zuko was quiet, his fingers playing mindlessly with Aang’s hand as he seemed to consider.

“Want me to fix you an old fashioned? Little liquid courage?” Aang had brought all the ingredients with him. 

Zuko shakes his head. “Dancing just isn’t me. You remember Sokka’s party.”

“You act like you were flailing.” Aang says, throwing his arms in the air with mock exasperation. He then levels his gaze at Zuko, lowering his voice. “Honestly, you’re gorgeous when you dance.” 

Zuko smiles a small smile. “Fine, I’ll take you up on the old fashioned. Then we’ll see.”

Aang pulls out everything he needs from his overnight bag and has the drink ready in short order. He gives it to Zuko who sips it first, then knocks it back, coughing as it goes down.

“You’re supposed to enjoy it.” Aang says, feigning offense.

“You want me to dance or not?”

Just then, Never Fade by Jack Johnson comes on. It’s a slow song, and the lyrics in the chorus begin with “It feels good to be the one that you want, when all I want is you”. It’s too perfect to pass up, so Aang grabs Zuko by the hand and drags him to the living room floor.

To his credit, Zuko doesn’t protest as Aang pulls him close, wrapping his arms loosely around his waist. Zuko rests his hands on his shoulders, but he’s stiff as a board with his face burning. 

Looking around the room, Aang notes that everyone else has partnered up. Sokka and Toph, Iroh and Ursa, Kiyi and Katara. They’re all dancing with each other, swaying back and forth to the music, all appearing lost to the moment.

“It’s just you and me.” He says gently.

Taking the lead, Aang moves with him, swaying slowly from side to side as the music wafts around them. He feels Zuko relax a little, letting himself be led. 

Aang sighs as blissful contentment washes over him. Everything he needs is right here - people he can call family, and as he looks into Zuko's eyes, he melts at the knowledge that he has love, too.

Feeling overwhelmed, Aang closes his eyes and rests his head in the crook of Zuko’s neck. He inhales him - pulled under by the sweet scents of sandalwood and hint of cinnamon. 

Then he hears the most subtle click and looks up to find Sokka with his phone out, just having taken their picture.

“You’ll thank me for documenting this later.” He says with a rare warm smile. Putting his phone back down to its spot on the mantle where it sat playing music, he waves the two off to go back to Toph.

“Don’t let me ruin the moment. You two keep being gross.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I'm just feeling a bit more sentimental lately, but writing parts of this chapter made me tear up. Let me know if you felt any of that.


	7. Everything I Wanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this might be a good chapter to listen to Everything I Wanted by Billie Eilish while reading if you're looking to really settle into the mood.

It’s a week before Christmas, and the world is buzzing with excitement. Christmas carols are played at every store, large red signs sit in shop windows boasting extreme discounts for last minute shoppers. Families walk with their small children through fresh snow, bundled up so warm they look more like stuffed animals than people. Colourful Christmas lights twinkle against evergreens in backyards and mall parking lots, and even with all the bustle, there’s a peaceful serenity that’s settled over the city. 

It’s eleven p.m. when Zuko leaves the White Lotus, having made his customary visit to Aang for the evening. Even the lounge had hired a window painter to decorate the large glass panes in delicate renditions of snowflakes. Long lilting black letters wish passersby the happiest of holidays. 

He steps out into the cold night, pulling his parka around him as his breath comes out in a cloud. With the stillness of winter, the moon is sharp in the sky, surrounded by the faint glow of stars bright enough to beat out the light pollution. 

“Zuko.”

The voice makes him stop dead in his tracks. He’s standing in the middle of the parking lot and he thinks he must have misheard. _It can’t be._

He turns, and his heart starts galloping in his chest, trying to run away without him. 

The sharp angles of his father’s face frame dark brows over severe golden eyes. And Zuko’s knees suddenly feel weak beneath him. He takes an involuntary step backward, trying to remember that he’s no longer a child. He forces himself to breathe, trying to come back from the memory he’s run from all his life. His scar feels hot on his face, and he winces at the memory of his father’s cruel hands ramming him down against the stovetop as he begs him to stop - begs him to have mercy.

“What a coincidence, running into you like this.” His voice is like silk. “You look well.”

Zuko feels his blood heat in his veins as his fear slowly transforms into rage. He steadies himself, fisting his hands at his sides.

“You’re not allowed to be here. One call to the police-”

“For what? Running into you in a parking lot? It’s not exactly a breach of the court order, son.”

Zuko grits his teeth, fear and rage making him tremble.

“What do you want?” He growls.

His father huffs a wheeze of a laugh, his breath coming out in a silver cloud.

“I came to congratulate you on your new relationship.” 

Zuko’s breath catches as he tries not to look back at the lounge.

“Bright young thing, isn’t he?” He sneers when he says this. “It would be a shame if his career never took off.”

_What?_

“How do you know about Aang?” He demands.

“The same way anyone knows anything. Your friend posted photos from your birthday on social media. I’m still friends with your Uncle, and I don’t think he knows the first thing about privacy settings. It looked like you had a lovely time.” His mouth twists into a horrible smirk as he says it. "I knew his name, so I looked him up on LinkedIn to learn more. An aspiring Occupational Therapist, how quaint."

“Is this a threat?” Zuko says dangerously.

“A threat? No. A mere observation from a place of concern. His future can still be a bright one.”

“Get to the point!” Zuko yells, feeling like his insides are on fire.

His father cuts his golden eyes to him, his mouth settling into a razor sharp line.

“I can’t say I approve of your… choice of partner. It looks bad, Zuko. Do you really want to bring shame to the family name?”

His words fall over Zuko like shattered glass, cutting him as they do. All the fire in him goes out, and his fists unfurl to hang limply at his sides.

“Why do you care? You’re not even in my life anymore.” He says weakly.

“Because I want our family to live up to its reputation. Alberta’s top surgeon might be divorced, but his children are his future. Why couldn’t you be more like Azula?”

He flinches at the mention of his estranged sister. 

“How dare you say her name. You ruined her, even more than you ruined me.”

“Ruined? She’s a prodigy! She's gone on to become one of the most successful businesswomen of her generation.”

“No thanks to you! She had to spend years in a mental institute just to make it out the other side.”

Here Zuko’s father shakes his head.

“And yet, she’s not the one disgracing the family name. People talk, you know? A few words from someone with influence, and I’m afraid that _queer_ will find his career leads to mopping hospital floors.”

“The world has moved on, too bad for you. He can’t be discriminated against for his sexuality.”

“Oh, you’re absolutely right. We live in a progressive country. But I would hate for there to be a scandal buried in his past. It’s a terrible way to destroy a future. You don't need that in your life.”

Zuko’s muscles are coiled tight, and he’s about to spring forward when his father delivers the killing blow.

“Of course, you can save him, and the honor of our family. All you have to do is walk away. _”_

Zuko wants to fight. He does, but he knows how powerful his father is. Not only is he an influential figure in the medical community across Canada, he’s wealthy. He has pull in places Zuko can’t reach.

Zuko feels his eyes welling with tears, and he turns his head away, willing his voice not to crack as he replies.

“If I end things with Aang, you promise you’ll leave him alone?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t lift a finger against him, son.” Zuko hates how well he plays his games, always leaving room for plausible deniability. “But I do believe it would be best for both of you to go your separate ways.”

Zuko feels his heart shatter as he utters his next words.

“I’ll do it.”

He hears his father chuckle as his steps echo across the quiet parking lot, fading as he walks away. 

“I do hope you won’t take too long, Zuko. It’s better to rip the bandaid off before it festers.”

Zuko waits until he hears his father slam his car door, start the motor and drive away. He watches as the inky black BMW slips silently onto the highway.

Finally, he lets himself run to his car. He fumbles with the keys, violently pressing the unlock button before getting in and slamming the door behind him. His breathing is ragged, his pulse rocketing in his ears. He thinks his blood must be boiling as beads of sweat roll down his neck and under the collar of his parka.

Finally, he screams - and it’s like agony if it had a voice of its own. Clutching the steering wheel, Zuko shakes as hot tears stream down his face. 

He was _thirty years old_. He should have agency in his own damn life by now, but his father’s shadow follows him still. If only Aang weren’t in medicine, maybe his father would have less sway…

_Aang._

His rage suddenly turns icy cold in his chest, and his hands go limp, slipping from the steering wheel as he falls back in the driver’s seat. 

He needs to get home. He can’t do this here. If Aang sees him, he won’t be able to do what he now has to.

The drive back to his apartment is like a dream. Zuko barely remembers taking the turn into his building’s parking lot. He’s still in a fog as he unlocks the glass door to the foyer, taking the four flights of stairs to his door. 

It’s only muscle memory that makes it possible for Zuko to hang his parka in the coat closet and kick his shoes off before he drags himself to the couch, collapsing onto it bonelessly. 

His father wasn’t giving him any time. If he didn’t end things with Aang quickly, he would make good on his threat. 

It was one a.m. Zuko couldn’t do it now. He knew Aang had OT work in the morning. He’d send him the message first thing. It was the coward’s way, but if he saw Aang again, he knew he’d break. He had to stay away. He could leave for Edmonton in a couple days, at least he could be out of the city for the holidays. Then he'd have time to figure out how to navigate the next four months.

He had to make it convincing. Or as convincing as he could on such short notice.

Pulling out his phone, Zuko composed a draft. It was such a short message, but it took him the better part of an hour to write. His heart strains with every word.

_Aang, I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. Your fieldwork placement is up in April. Let’s end things now before it’s too hard for both of us. I don’t know where the future will take you, but I’m sure it’ll be somewhere amazing._

He hates it. He hates all of it. But he’s got nothing else he can say. He considers telling Aang the truth. Maybe they could pretend to break up? As much as he wishes he could, it was too much of a risk. If his father found out, it would be game over. Plus, he thinks, Aang would be better off without him. He felt certain that Aang was the kind of person who would always land on his feet, his charisma and natural talent opening doors for him wherever he went. He would find the success he deserved as long as Zuko let him go.

He reads the draft again, and a new wave of rage takes him. Growling, he hurls his phone at the wall, not caring who hears as it clatters loudly and falls to the carpeted floor with an uninspiring thud. 

Wrapping a hand around the pendant Aang carved for him, Zuko curls in on himself, wishing he could disappear.


	8. Let Me Let You Go

Aang thinks he must still be dreaming when he reads Zuko’s text. His alarm has just gone off, and it’s 8 a.m. Blearily, he rubs his eyes with the back of his hand before reading it again.

_Aang, I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. Your fieldwork placement is up in April. Let’s end things now before it’s too hard for both of us. I don’t know where the future will take you, but I’m sure it’ll be somewhere amazing._

Wait, what?

He reads it at least three more times, and finally his brain kicks into gear. The first thing he notices is the way his heart begins pounding in his chest, and his breathing turns shallow.

There has to be something he’s not getting. This can’t be right.

Zuko had come to visit him at the White Lotus just last night. He seemed happy, and they’d talked about spending the holidays together in Edmonton. 

He’s so confused he has no room to feel anything else. He just can’t wrap his head around it. 

Zuko… wanted to break up? 

Aang let his hand fall limp at his side, staring up at his ceiling. He couldn’t feel anything. He was in shock.

Work. He had work. That was something that made sense, that he could focus on. Pushing himself up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Aang stood to dress himself for his OT job. Then he proceeded to shave, wash his face and brush his teeth. 

_Zuko wanted to break up._

It was hitting him now, a whole half hour later. He found his appetite wasn’t there, so he stowed an apple and a banana in his bag before heading out to his car. 

He didn’t have time to think about this now. He was grateful he had the evening off. He could come home and figure this out then.

***

When Sokka and Katara got home, they found Aang in the kitchen, leaning back in his chair and looking at nothing in particular. He’d barely made it through the day. His mind was elsewhere, transported somewhere far away from reality. He managed to stay professional and focused only by aggressively ignoring the whirlwind of feelings threatening to grow into a typhoon inside him. 

Turning to his friends with a weak smile, he gave a small wave. “Hey guys.”

“Uh… Aang, buddy? You, uh, okay?” Sokka asked as he and Katara came through the back door, stripping off their winter coats.

“Zuko dumped me.” 

That was it. Plain and simple. Saying it made it real.

There was a too long silence while the statement settled over the room.

“He what now?” Katara demanded.

The siblings came to sit at the table waiting for Aang to say more.

“He texted me this morning.” Here, Aang pushes his phone across the table, screen open to the message. Katara picked the phone up, and Sokka leaned in to read over her shoulder.

“Did he ever say anything to you about the end of your fieldwork placement before? I thought you were going to look for a job in Calgary?”

And that’s just it. Aang had spent a lot of his day trying to remember if Zuko had ever said anything hinting at concern over what would happen once his fieldwork placement was up. They’d only been together a month and a half, and Aang had gotten the impression they were playing things by ear.

“Not once. I had thought about bringing it up with him since…”

_Since things seemed to be getting more serious._

“Well, I figured it was time to start thinking about the future.”

Sokka’s brows are knitted together as he re-reads the text.

“Something about this isn’t right. I’ve known Zuko since we were kids. He’s terrible at communication, sure, but this isn’t like him. I hadn’t seen him so happy since he started beating my ass at Mario Kart.” 

Aang can’t help but chuckle, but Sokka’s words strike a chord. His expression crumbles as he drops his gaze to the table, willing the moisture in his eyes away.

“I thought I knew him. I thought he was happy… with me. But when I think about it, really think about it, I know almost nothing about Zuko.” He has to swallow the lump in his throat as he says his name. “He told me so little about himself, and I always thought I had time to learn. But now, I guess I never will.” 

The feelings he’d been fighting back finally crash over him, and his heart feels like it’s being ringed out in his chest. 

“I know it’s going to sound crazy after only a month, but... I love him.”

Quiet tears slip down his cheeks, and he wipes them away with the back of his hand.

“Sorry. I guess I just needed to get that out.”

Rising from her chair, Katara stoops down to pull him into a hug.

“It’s okay. Of course you’re not okay right now.”

“You know what would cheer you up?” Sokka says, pulling his own phone out. “Spending Christmas with us. I’ll give dad a call to let him know you’re coming along.”

How Sokka manages to do the sweetest things with such nonchalance amazes him. 

“Thanks you two. I’d love that. A few more days of moping, and I should be back to mostly normal by Christmas eve.”

They smile back at him, and Sokka holds his phone to his ear as he calls his father.

***

After spending the evening with Sokka and Katara, Aang was feeling a little better. Now, he sat on the edge of his bed hunched over his phone, re-reading Zuko’s text for the umpteenth time. He hadn’t replied before, not knowing what to say. 

Feeling his heart leap into his throat, Aang impulsively taps the call button and holds his phone to his ear. His chest tightens as he listens to the first ring, and after the third ring, he was deeply regretting this decision. What would he even say if Zuko did answer? He thought about hanging up, save himself the additional heartache.

But he held on, thinking back on Zuko's words. The text read like it was hiding another reason, the real reason Zuko had for ending things, and he wanted to know what it was. It would break his heart no matter what, but at least he’d know.

As the phone continued to ring, Aang’s pulse began to slow. _He’s not going to pick up._

At last, the ringing stops and he hears Zuko’s voicemail recording.

“Sorry I missed your call. Leave me a message, and I’ll get back to you.”

Aang shook his head. He knew Zuko wouldn’t be getting back to him, but when he heard the beep, he still didn’t hang up.

“Hey… I got your text.” Aang pauses, realizing how stupid he sounds. “If you were really concerned about the end of my fieldwork placement, I wasn’t just going to leave. You-” he cuts himself off before he can say _you mean too much to me for that._

“I don’t understand, Zuko.” Frustration is starting to creep into his tone. “I don’t, but if you want to end things, I’ll respect that. I just wish you’d talk to me.” He pauses, unsure how to continue. He knows what he wants to say. 

_I love you, I’m not ready to let you go._

and

_I want you to be happy, I just wish that could be with me._

But he can’t. Instead, he hangs up.


	9. Broken

The drive to Edmonton was a solemn one without Aang, though Iroh had tried to make up for his absence with light conversation. The shop would be closed December 24 and 25, a tradition Iroh insisted was important for making time to spend with family and loved ones. 

“It’s been a good year for The Jasmine Dragon.” Iroh says in a bid for casual chatter. “Our sales have been higher, so we’ll be able to pay out bonuses to our staff.” 

His uncle looks so happy that Zuko can’t help but smile himself. Iroh was a generous employer who made an effort to pay his staff fairly, and as a manager, Zuko could say that he was paid quite well. He might not be rich, but he wasn’t hurting either. 

If only he was wealthy enough to pose a threat to his father. If he had enough money, he would hire the best lawyers in the country and have Ozai behind bars for the rest of his sorry life. Or at least ruin his career.

He was white-knuckling the steering wheel, and the leather creaked as it strained in his grip.

“Zuko,” His uncle says gently. “I know it’s not my place to ask, but what happened between you and Aang?”

Zuko feels like he might choke on the white hot fury that rises in his throat, but he manages to swallow it down. It’s not his uncle he’s angry with - it’s himself.

“It just wasn’t working out.” He spits, bitterly.

From the time his face was disfigured, Zuko learned to live a different existence where he had to be reminded every day that his own father hated him. He’d learned to dance around questions about his scar, he’d learned to lie. He’d learned to fight when rumours made predators of classmates, when schoolyard brawls had ended in broken bones - many of them not his own. Zuko had been a difficult adolescent for his mother and his uncle to raise, getting himself expelled more than once, and pulling in barely passing grades in most of his classes. 

His uncle had hired him at The Jasmine Dragon right out of high school, because Zuko’s prospects weren’t bright given his history.

And finally, after many years of therapy, he’d eventually learned to accept the mark he bore. When Kiyi was born, he knew he wanted to be someone she could look up to. She didn’t need a father figure, she _had_ a father, and a damn good one. Ikem loved his family, and sometimes Zuko envied her that. The least Zuko could be was a good older brother, someone who could protect her and be there for her in all the ways his father never had been for him.

Then Aang happened, and the last month and a half of Zuko's life had been arguably the happiest in all the years after his father burned him.

Iroh is looking at him with sharp concern, and Zuko realizes he's not getting out of this without telling the truth.

When he was a teenager, his uncle had learned to navigate his explosive temper. He never pushed back then, knowing that his rage was used as a mask to cover his pain. Iroh only pushed back when it was important.

“Nephew, there is something you’re not telling me.” 

Iroh’s words cause something inside Zuko to crack. Reflexively, he lifts a hand to the pendant laying under his collar. Putting on his hazards, Zuko pulls over to the lip of the road and puts the car in park.

He removes his seat belt so he can turn to face Iroh, and his eyes feel wet.

“I love him, uncle.”

Snow is falling from the sky, accumulating in fluffy piles on the windshield. The dark cones of the evergreens rise against heavy grey clouds, looming menacingly along the empty highway. It feels as though they want to close in, to suffocate.

Iroh is quiet, his eyes soft with concern. He waits for Zuko to continue.

“I saw my father.”

He watches as Iroh’s eyes go wide, and his expression turns stormy.

“He found me in the parking lot of the White Lotus, and he threatened Aang’s career if I-”

His hands shake horribly on the steering wheel, so he laces his fingers together in his lap to steady them. It’s shameful how afraid he is, how his father’s presence reduces him to the same scared thirteen year old held against the burner as Zuko screamed in agony.

It all hits him at once - how much he misses Aang, how much he hates his father, and finally, how much he hates himself for being a coward. 

Curling over the steering wheel and breathing hard, his tears fall in a steady stream down his cheeks. He disgusts himself, he should be stronger than this. He’s had to struggle all his young life, and he hates how his shoulders tremble with his sobs, his sorrow and shame laid bare. 

He feels his uncle's strong hand wrap around his arm, pulling him across the centre console to lean awkwardly over to the passenger’s seat. There, Iroh crushes him in a steadying hug. He stiffens a moment, unprepared for the contact, and instinct tells him to push away and pretend this never happened.

At first he does nothing, until the warmth of his uncle’s embrace makes him relax. Finally, he rests his forehead on Iroh’s shoulder and allows his tears to fall freely as he regulates his breathing. 

A small eternity passes before Zuko pulls away, his eyes dry, his expression back to a mask of poise.

“Thank you, uncle.”

"I'll drive us the rest of the way. You should try and get some sleep, otherwise your mother will notice the bags under your eyes."

Feeling the exhaustion settling in his bones, Zuko agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So these chapters are a little shorter, but things are going to start picking up from now on.


	10. Devil Is A Loser

Nothing could have prepared Aang for mid-January weather in Calgary. As he sat in his car waiting for the motor to heat up, the temperature gauge on his dash read -35 degrees celsius. The coldest it got in Prince Edward Island was maybe -25 with windchill. On average it was usually around -10 to -15. 

Grimacing, he rubs his hands together in front of the air vents. 

“I miss October.” He grumbles to no one in particular. At least October had been a beautiful month when the city was golden with the turning leaves, and hoarfrost had covered the ground in an icy fractal blanket that crunched beneath his boots. 

He also notes that it had been the beginning of the end for his heart. 

On second thought, he could go without October. He’d be fine with skipping it altogether and going straight to November. See if he cared when all the autumn-loving Instagram accounts crucified for him for blasphemy. Anne would have to be glad for another month in the calendar.

Finally his motor was warm enough for him to start driving. He was headed to another shift at the White Lotus, and he wasn’t in a great mood. The weather made it impossible for him to go for a walk to clear his head, and recently he’d wanted to clear his head often. Everything made him think of Zuko, though he guessed there was no way around it. He’d met the man almost immediately after moving to Calgary. Nearly all of his exploration of the city had happened with, if not for, Zuko. 

It didn’t help that January was one of the busiest months he’d seen at the lounge, with bodies almost spilling out the door every night. New Year’s had been a gong show. He’d had to come in earlier for his shifts, at six rather than eight. This only gave him a little over an hour to rest after getting done with his OT shift for the day.

Aang was exhausted, and he felt there might be nothing he wouldn’t do for a break. He had OT the following morning, too. 

He pulled into the parking lot and his mouth fell open when he saw how full it was. There were no empty stalls, which forced him to circle the block and park a whole ten minute walk away. _In -35._

Well, this evening was shaping up to be perfectly charming.

He was freezing when he reached the back door to the White Lotus. Once inside, he blinked away the ice that had frozen to his eyelashes. The warmth of the kitchen brought him some comfort, and a few coworkers greeted him as they rushed to and fro, some preparing food, some picking it up to take out to the floor. He gave a small smile in return and doffed his coat along with all his other winter regalia, to hang by the others and made his way to the bar.

Amber, a girl Aang often shared his shifts with during the busier nights, was working double time to keep up with all the orders. She was a small girl with blonde hair and green eyes, and she looked absolutely frazzled.

“Aang, thank god you’re here. Help!”

Time to get to work. Aang put on his game face - the blinding smile he used to charm patrons into tips, and jumped into the fray. He and Amber worked back-to-back pouring cocktails and beers, expertly dancing around each other when reaching for ingredients under the bar. 

The clock ticked on, and drink order after drink order pinged up on screen. Groups of friends came piling through the front door, laughing and talking loudly. Couples snuggled up to each other at the bar, discussing how wonderfully they’d spent their holidays together. The odd person who’d had too much to drink would lean across the bar trying to get their attention to order another drink. Aang had to intervene at one point, cutting off a man who threatened to drive away completely plastered. Aang had wrestled his keys away and called him a cab. He’d only managed to get his address out of him by pretending to be a cop asking for his license. He'd been too drunk to realize police officers didn't also work behind the bar.

Mercifully, around nine, the crowd began to thin. Orders popped up on screen less frequently, and Amber went to clock out. 

She looked as ragged as Aang felt. 

“Hope you get to close up early.” She said as she waved goodbye. Aang hoped so too.

Some streetsmart regulars approached the bar, knowing when to come to avoid the rush - two couples who looked to be close friends.

“Hey Aang.” The one named Jane greeted. She had blue eyes, and her black hair was cut into an asymmetrical bob. She always wore bright red lipstick. 

“Hey Jane, and company.” He smiled up at them, drying a glass as he did.

“How you holding up?” She asked. “Any word from the traitorous ex yet?”

That was her name for Zuko. She’d been there for the performance Aang had put on to throw off all the hopefuls leaving him their numbers, and she’d been quick to notice Zuko’s absence in the last few weeks.

“Not a word.” He said with a sigh. “I’ve given up, honestly.”

Jane frowns at him.

“The usual?” He asks.

“You know it, barman.”

Aang laughs and pulls out what he needs for a whiskey sour.

As he’s preparing the drink, out of the corner of his eye, Aang notices another regular. Though he’s still a relatively new face at the White Lotus, he’s come in almost nightly for the last month or so. Currently he’s seated at the other end of the bar, his features sharp enough to cut. 

Once he’s done preparing the whiskey sour, Aang slides to the end of the bar and offers up his signature smile.

“Glass of the house Merlot, as always?” He asks.

He has to suppress a shudder when the man turns his cold amber eyes on him. 

“Yes, thank you.” 

“Coming right up.”

Something about him feels familiar, but Aang can’t quite put his finger on it. He takes no time to pour the glass of wine and gently slides it across the bar.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help but overhear that you’ve recently gone through a break up. I’m sorry to hear it.” His expression is impassive as he takes a sip of his wine.

“Oh, yeah. Life happens, I guess.” Aang tries to sound friendly, but the man's attempt at chumminess throws him.

“I’m sure a handsome young man like you will find someone new in no time.” His voice is velvety, and Aang isn’t sure what to make of his tone. Something about this man unnerves him.

“Thanks.” He tries. “Oh look, gotta get back at it. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Aang excuses himself, grateful for the new orders on his screen. He pulls out what he needs and gets to work.

It’s about three quarters of an hour before the man leaves. Much to Aang’s chagrin, he never tips. 

***

For once, Aang was grateful for blue Monday. For the first time since the end of December, he was able to close the bar early. He pulls on layer after layer of warm clothing until he's well bundled and bids farewell to his fellow overnight workers - a single server and a couple cooks - and leaves through the back door.

The streetlamps bathe the snow in an unflattering yellow light, reflecting off frozen and discoloured slush, turned grey and black by the treads of muddy tires. 

Aang hears a shuffle to his right, but he's too slow to see what it is before something - someone - is on him.

"Hey, what the-?"

He's cut off as his assailant shoves him back against the wall, pressing against him. Aang stills, looking for signs of a weapon, and sizing up his attacker. All he can see are a pair of bright blue eyes against pale freckled skin, and the bridge of a nose disappearing behind a ski mask. His attacker doesn't say anything, but Aang feels hands digging into his shoulders, and as far as he can tell, they're both empty.

Gaining confidence, Aang quickly grips his assailant's wrists and jams his forearm into his chest before twisting his body to flip their positions. Once Aang has his attacker against the wall, he holds _him?_ there, glaring into what little he can see of the face.

"What do you want?" He demands, keeping his tone even.

The blue eyes slide to his left, and from his periphery, Aang sees another figure rushing towards him. This is undoubtedly a man - broad shoulders under a heavy winter coat giving him away. Aang jumps back, ready to fight if he needs to. But once the shorter assailant is free, both turn around and run. He rushes after them, but as he skirts the corner of the building, he sees the back end of a car, its license plate obscured by thick condensation as it speeds away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens! (Also, please stop crying, everyone. I can't afford all your tissues.)


	11. Reunions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, I just revived an old art tumblr where I'm starting to post some Zuko & Aang stuff. I'm going to be working on some specific art for this fic, in case you're interested. You can find me at mikhailasart.tumblr.com
> 
> Have I convinced any of you to visit Calgary yet? XD

Zuko gets the distinct feeling that he’s being followed. He keeps seeing a nondescript gentleman with nothing but a mop of greying hair on his head to recognize him by. He habitually lives in business casual attire - slacks and a button up without a tie. He’s pretty sure the champagne Nissan Altima that he passes in the parking lot on the way to The Jasmine Dragon is the same one he’s seen parked by the dog park on the way to his building, too. 

He looks like he could be a retired man who spends too much of his time in shopping centres to get his exercise, and to make a social quota. The man’s presence is innocuous enough, but after a month, and more than a few times catching the man’s eye in his rearview mirror, Zuko was starting to get suspicious. 

So this was how his father planned to intimidate him into keeping his end of the bargain.

Zuko’s currently bringing over a couple bubble tea orders to a table, and he tries to keep his expression light despite how discomfited he feels. Years of practice have taught him how to soften the angry cast his scar gives to his face - usually it involves smiling a little and relaxing his brow. He employs the old trick as he reaches the table and sets down the sealed plastic cups. The two girls - they look like they could be Korean, smile up at him shyly and nod in thanks as he sets down two straws and heads back to the counter where an associate is taking payment for multiple tins of loose leaf tea.

The Jasmine Dragon is a combination cafe and store. There are six tables in the place, small, round and wooden on dark hardwood flooring. The interior is designed to feel like the inside of a cabin, and his uncle even had a fireplace put in to complete the effect. The wall behind the counter is a library of teas in large glass jars, so as to show off the colours and textures of each blend. Against the back wall is a take-one-leave-one library where patrons can choose to either read as they drink, or trade an old book for a new one to take home. 

The uniforms are simple - black jeans or slacks and a forest green polo with the silhouette of a dragon embroidered over the right breast with golden thread.

The bell on the door rings, and Zuko looks over his shoulder to see the very man he’s sure is following him. He puts on his best customer service smile to greet him, betraying none of his suspicions.

“Take a seat where you like.” Zuko says as he grabs a menu and waits for the gentleman to make his way over to one of the available tables. He follows him and sets the menu down. “Can I get you started with a water?”

The man nods, giving Zuko a hollow smile. 

_Try following me where I’m going old man. Let’s see how good you are._

He purposely took transit to work today, knowing he’d be going downtown later. Transit was always hit and miss with no accounting for traffic delays, but he needed to get the old man off his trail.

At closing, Zuko waves the man out, and he’s a little surprised he’s staying so close. Although, he supposed an old man coming in for a cup of tea wasn’t out of the ordinary.

The associate leaves him to close up with a friendly goodbye, and Zuko makes quick work of his duties. When he thinks back to the carelessness he exercised as a teenager versus how meticulous he is now, he can’t really believe he’s the same person. A lot had changed over the years.

He was determined to change again, now. Spending Christmas and New Year’s away from Aang had been a nightmare. He missed who he was with Aang - his gentle kindness smoothed Zuko’s edges, and put his mind at ease in a way no one else had before. 

It was one morning when Zuko had woken up yelling from a repeated nightmare about his father hurting Aang that he’d made up his mind. He still had time to fix things before Aang’s fieldwork placement was up. He did have time, but less of it. February was fast approaching, and Zuko had a lot to make up for in three months. If he did manage to take his father down, he wasn’t sure Aang would even want him back. The thought made him rest his elbows on the counter and drop his face into his hands to steady himself. Even if Aang didn’t want him back, he owed it to himself to face down his father once and for all. 

Finally, he finished up and pulled on his coat, gloves and toque and headed out the back door towards the bus stop. 

It wasn’t long before the bus pulled up, and Zuko climbed the stairs into the cabin. As he did, he saw the Nissan pull around a corner. Quickly, he sat down, sinking low into the seat next to a woman who side-eyed him. Thankfully she was sitting on his right side, which tended to soften people’s reactions to him a little. This was another aspect of his life he’d learned to live with - anytime Zuko had to be out in public, he had to behave with particular decorum and formality. Not only was he foreign, he was disfigured, and the two didn’t mix well unless he was on his best behaviour at all times. Canada was a progressive and accepting country, sure, but for all its boasting of being the cultural melting pot of the world, it still had its share of racism and bias to overcome.

The bus rattled along the road, stopping to pick up shivering transit goers, their cheeks and noses flushed red from standing in the cold. Zuko always ran warmer than most, so the cold tended not to bother him as much, but the dryness always made his scar ache unless he applied lotion throughout the day.

Finally the bus arrived at the loop by the train station, and bodies began shuffling towards the door as the driver wished them all a good day. Zuko gave him a nod as he stepped out into the frigid embrace of the evening air. It was only six, but it was dark enough to be late at night. Pulling his hood up to hide his scar, Zuko stepped carefully to avoid slipping on any black ice as he made his way to the platform. 

He made furtive glances around him to see if the old man had followed, but he didn’t see him anywhere. Good, he’d lost him.

A few minutes later, the train pulled into the station, and Zuko got on, choosing to stand, leaving a seat was open for someone who needed it more than he did.

As the doors were closing, he saw him. The old man was rushing down the steps to the train, and if someone tried to be nice and stick their foot between the doors to keep them open, Zuko would have a problem.

By the time the man reached the platform, the doors had slid closed and the train was already starting to move. Zuko sighed and let his hood down, unzipping his coat so he could breathe in the heated train car.

***

Standing at the base of the Calgary Tower, Zuko craned his neck to see the slowly rotating top. Of course his sister would choose the most iconic place to meet for the first time in years.

It’s quiet, a side effect of January weather. The Calgary Tower was otherwise packed with tourists and oil and gas suits during the nicer parts of the year. With his shoulders up against the cold wind, Zuko steps into the gift shop at the base of the tower and directs himself to the back where a blonde young man stands selling admission tickets. 

“I’m here for dinner.” Zuko says, unsure if he needs to pay for a ticket when he’s dining in.

“Oh, sure. Come on in.” The young man removes the velvet chord to let him pass, and gestures him towards the elevator. 

“Thanks.” 

He’s not a huge fan of the elevator, especially since there had been recent issues with it getting stuck on the way up, and it isn’t until the doors open up to the restaurant that he lets himself breathe again.

A pretty hostess greets him at the door to the restaurant and picks up a menu.

“Do you have a reservation, sir?”

 _Sir._ He’d never get used to the term.

“I think it should be for Azula?”

“Oh yeah, she’s already here. Right this way.”

She leads Zuko to a booth that’s just around the corner from the door, and there she is. He hadn’t seen Azula in years - partly because their relationship had always been a difficult one, and partly because her career kept her extremely busy. She looks as regal as a cat. Her hair is pulled back into a relaxed bun, some wispy hairs framing her face. She’s wearing a sharp button up and high-waisted black slacks. 

“Hey.” He greets as he shrugs off his heavy coat to hang it on the coat hook that’s part of the booth.

“Hi Zuzu.” She says with a smirk. “You look cold.”

“I took transit, and it’s like minus fifteen out there.”

She appraises him impassively, then she rests her cheek on her fist.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, Zuzu?” She almost sounds melancholy.

“Yeah, it has.” 

“So, to what do I owe this strange reunion?”

Zuko takes a look around the restaurant just to be sure he’s not going to be overheard, and when he’s satisfied there’s no risk of it, he begins to talk.

“Dad's back.”

Azula’s eyes widen just a fraction.

“What about the No Contact order?”

Zuko frowns. “Still in place. He found me in a parking lot.”

“Why would he look for you after seventeen years?” She asks with one eyebrow raised.

“Because he didn’t like who I was dating.” He says darkly. “Apparently he saw some pictures from my birthday celebration, because Facebook privacy settings.”

“Social media is always the enemy. Why would he care who you’re dating anyway?”

“I was wondering the same thing. Apparently he still sees you and I as reflections of himself.”

Azula scoffs.

He nods in agreement.

“I was dating a guy, and he threatened me.” Zuko pauses, grimacing.

Azula looks taken aback. “I didn’t figure you for the type to date other men, Zuzu. Not that I care either way. So, was your ex someone dad already had a problem with?”

"No, he was just the wrong gender."

They’re momentarily interrupted by a server who comes by to take their orders. Zuko quickly finds something on the menu and orders a rum and coke. He hadn’t been able to drink an Old Fashioned since ending things with Aang.

Once the server has left, Azula leans forward conspiratorially. 

“So, you want me to help you take dad down.”

“Yeah. I already have half of the plan, but I need your help coming up with the rest of it.”

Azula is listening.

“It’s been twelve years since dad got out of jail, and I did a little research about how doctors can pay to have their criminal records expunged, depending on the crime. I’m guessing that’s what he did to get his career to take off.”

“So you’re thinking of bringing his past back to haunt him?”

“Yeah, but I have a feeling that won’t be enough. I don’t need to actually ruin his career, I just need enough to threaten him so he’ll back down.”

“What’s he got on you again?”

Zuko scowls. “Aang, my ex, is in his first fieldwork placement to become an Occupational Therapist. Dad threatened to ruin his career if I didn’t cut things off.”

Azula clicks her tongue. “That’s so _boring._ Though I guess it makes sense since dad did always love his reputation the most. I guess your timing couldn't be better. He's at the height of his career - the bigger they are...”

Azula’s own history with their father was even more complex. After the divorce, Azula still chose to spend half her time living with Ozai, baffling everyone. She was so determined to make him proud that she broke herself in the process. At age sixteen, Azula had a mental breakdown that sent her to the psych ward for a year. She came out on the other side motivated to prove that she could do anything, and she completed her MBA with honours. Now she was an accomplished marketing executive with one of the communications companies in the city.

“Well,” she says leaning back in her seat as the server places their food on the table and walks away. “You have the internet at your fingertips. Workplace bullying is a hot topic right now, and I would be surprised if there weren’t a few people feeling the pressure with father as a lead surgeon.”

“That makes sense, but how would I even get that information?”

Azula smiles as she sips her whiskey on the rocks. “Oh, I can do that part for you. But in your case, you should gather as much information from social media as you can. I recommend reddit. Start a thread talking about father, and you might be surprised who speaks up. No one uses their real name on the platform, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you found a few folks who’d be willing to share their experiences. Don’t say who you are, of course. Just make it out like you’re someone who’s being bullied by him, encourage others to come forward as well.”

Zuko finds that he’s fighting back the grin that’s spreading across his face. This could _work._

“If I threaten to bring up dad’s history plus workplace abuse allegations, he’ll have to fold. It would be enough to put a snag in his career.”

Azula nods as she eats, looking pleased.

“You might want to have a back up plan, though.” She says.

Zuko had thought about that already, and while he didn’t like it, it was the only other option he had.

“I have one.” He says it meaningfully, and Azula watches him expectantly. “I have one. That’s all you need to know.”

She shrugs. “Just don’t go getting yourself killed.”

***

When Zuko parts ways with his sister, he's pleased to see that it's still early. His improved mood makes him crave the comfort of tea and his uncle. He decides to spend the extra money on an Uber, and sets his destination to Iroh's address.

It's a half hour ride, and Zuko texts ahead to let his uncle know he's coming for a visit. He sets down his phone and watches the wintery world go by through the window, grateful that his driver isn't feeling chatty.

His mind is on his conversation with Azula. If they can pull their information together, he might stand a fighting chance at getting his father out of his life. Where he should have been seventeen years ago. The thought makes his chest tighten.

Relief washes over him as the Uber pulls up next to his uncle's house, and just as he's about to knock, the door opens to reveal his uncle's smiling face. Zuko can already smell fresh tea from inside, and the scent alone is enough to warms his bones.

"Hi uncle." He says as he pulls him into a hug.

Iroh leads him to the kitchen with a hand on his back, gesturing for Zuko to take a seat at the low wooden table and pours a fresh cup of tea for him.

"How did your meeting with Azula go?" He asks, taking a seat himself.

"It went well. With her help, I might actually have a chance against my father."

Zuko proceeds to explain the plan to his uncle, and Iroh nods, looking pleased.

"Your father won't be so quick to see you, nephew." He says slowly. "Unless you have something he wants."

There's a glint in his uncle's eyes as he stands and moves out of the kitchen. When he returns, he's holding a small wooden box that Zuko recognizes.

"Your father has wanted this heirloom since it was left to me." He sets the box down and opens the lid, revealing a silk-covered interior. Nestled in a little nook of the silk is an elegant wooden seal, an intricately carved dragon standing on it with bulging angry eyes and a fearsome roaring mouth.

"Grandfather's old imperial seal." Zuko marvels. The seal had been passed down through generations - a precious heirloom representing the ancient history of Zuko's family, and had Iroh chose to sell it, it would earn him a small fortune. However, Iroh was a sentimental man with a deep respect for history and tradition. He treasured the keepsake, caring for it dutifully. Azulon had known not to leave it to his younger son, a man of more opulent taste, and little regard for the ways of their ancestors.

"Offer this to your father when you need to see him." Iroh says, pushing the box across the table to his nephew. "I am sure he will not refuse."

"But uncle-"

Iroh looks at him with a kind smile and shakes his head. "An heirloom is just an object, nephew. It is no substitute for a happy heart."

"Thank you." With a small smile, Zuko brings the cup of tea to his lips and sighs as warmth spreads through him.

***

It’s ten p.m. by the time Zuko climbs the three snow-covered stairs of his building. He’s in the best mood he’s been in for months, and for the first time, he dares to be hopeful. He gets out his key to open the door and puts it in the lock.

“Zuko.”

He stops dead as the voice hits him like a sack of bricks.

“Hey, I’m sorry for sneaking up on you.”

_Fuck._

Zuko turns, and he’s not ready, he’ll never be ready when it comes to Aang’s brilliant grey eyes, so open, so full of kindness. Suddenly, he’s hyper aware of the pendant against his skin.

“Aang, what are you…?”

Aang raises his hands. He’s standing at the base of the stairs, and Zuko notices his Plymouth parked in a nearby stall.

“I’ve been calling you. I saw your car, and I thought you were… well, I just really want to talk. Please.” He whispers the last word, and it breaks Zuko’s heart.

He has no idea what to say. He’d successfully avoided Aang since December, and seeing him standing here in the cold is making Zuko want to pull him close and apologize for everything. Aang misinterprets his silence as discomfort.

“I know you probably don’t want to see me -” his expression is so pained when he says it. “And I am sorry for springing this on you. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you, but…”

But Zuko had blocked his number after that first call. He couldn’t afford to receive anything from Aang if he hoped to protect him.

“Zuko, I just… Did I do something to you?” His eyes plead with Zuko, ripping his heart in two. “I’ve just rehashed every possible step I took, to the point where I’m not sure I remember anything right anymore. I just… I don’t know where we- where I went wrong.”

Zuko’s heart hammers when he sees the nose of the champagne Nissan parked across the street from his building. Goddamn it. Of course the asshole would just camp out by his building after being given the slip.

Zuko needs to do something, and fast. He steels himself for what he has to do next.

“The only thing you did wrong was overestimate how much you mattered to me.” He turns his face so the scarred side is facing Aang. “You were just a fun distraction, Aang. It’s time to move on.”

He turns back to his building to hide the tears that are welling in his eyes and proceeds to unlock the door. He enters, leaving Aang in the cold, not once daring to look back.

_I’m so sorry, Aang._


	12. Come Clean

He hears Zuko’s words echo in his head, over and over, a cutting mantra.

_The only thing you did wrong was overestimate how much you mattered to me._

Shock numbed all his senses on the drive home.

_Distraction._

Was that really all he'd been?

_Overestimated how much you mattered._

Was he really so foolish? How had he not seen any warning signs? 

_It’s time to move on._

Aang remembers the way Zuko kissed him, he remembers the way he would say his name. The way Zuko would touch him...

It wasn’t until he was parked behind the townhouse that the freight train of emotions bowled him over. He couldn’t stop the hot tears from spilling down his face, no matter how hard he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. 

_You were just a fun distraction, Aang. It’s time to move on._

The words threaten to tear him apart as he sobs into his hands, his chest heaving with the force of his breathing. 

Never in all his years had Aang ever felt like this - like he was roadkill that needed to be scraped from the pavement, his heart a bloody smear on the asphalt. 

Suddenly the front seat is bathed in dull cool light as Aang's screen glows from the cup holder. 

It’s a text from Zuko.

Hot anger rips through him, and he wants to hurl his phone out the window, but the words across his screen give him pause.

_I’m sorry, I had to say it. I’m about to call you, please pick up. I’ll explain everything._

Sure enough, his phone starts buzzing as Zuko’s name pops up on his screen.

Aang gives a shuddering breath as he answers. He only holds the phone to his ear, still unable to speak.

“Aang?”

“I’m here.” He rasps, his voice still weak from crying.

“Fuck. Aang, I’m so sorry.” Zuko's voice is laden with remorse. “Please don’t believe a word of what I said. I was being followed.”

_What?_

“This is going to sound insane, and I’m so sorry. There’s so much I need to tell you.”

Aang inhales sharply and holds it. He shrinks into his winter coat as he listens.

“My scar… My father gave it to me. When I was thirteen I messed up. I can’t even remember what it was. I talked back to him, and he held me over the stove as punishment.”

It takes a second for Zuko’s words to sink in. 

“My mother divorced him almost immediately after, and he was thrown in jail for five years. He’s been under a No Contact court order since he got out. I hadn’t seen him for years, until-” Zuko inhales. “Until the middle of December.”

Aang puts the pieces together immediately. Mid-December had become synonymous with heartbreak.

“The break up?” His voice is hoarse as he asks it.

Zuko’s sigh crackles through the speaker. 

“Yes. He threatened to ruin your career if I stayed with you, Aang."

Aang almost chokes.

"I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want to risk it. You love what you do, and you’re one of the most incredible people I know.” Here Zuko’s voice breaks. “You deserve a future that’s as bright as you are, but I didn’t know how you could have that with me and my messed up family.”

Once he processes Zuko's words, Aang swears he sees red.

“That fucker shouldn’t be able to see the light of day.” Thick venom drips from his words, summoned from a dark place Aang rarely reached inside himself.

“I know. That’s what I’m working on now.”

The world seems to fade around him, and Aang feels his hands shake with the ghosts of the pain from the last month. He closes his eyes, counting his breaths to recentre himself.

“Zuko, I have never felt as broken as I felt today.” His voice breaks as he says it. “Do you have any idea what your words did-”

“Aang, I know.” Zuko cuts him off. “I’m an idiot. That’s why I’m calling you now.” He pauses, catching his breath. “I know it’s maybe the last thing you want to hear right now…” 

The pause is long, and Aang listens in silence as the line buzzes with quiet static.

“I never stopped loving you.” Zuko finally breathes. “Every day has been a nightmare without you. I’ve missed you so much it’s been physically painful." 

Aang tries to ignore the little flip his heart is doing as Zuko's words wash over him.

"I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to you.”

He hears a muffled sound on the other end. _Zuko is crying._

He pauses, afraid for a moment to let his heart lead him forward. He knows how he feels, but the pain... It was so real. He hadn't realized how hard his heart had fallen until the proverbial hook had been yanked out. 

Feeling raw, Aang sighs as a new peace descends on him. He's afraid to hurt again. Still, he was never one to lie, so he lets his heart lead the way, for better or for worse.

“I... love you too, Zuko.” He pauses, tasting the words again after so long. “Maybe against my better judgment, but I do.” 

Zuko actually laughs.

“Aang, I love you more than I knew I could love anyone. If you’ll have me, I’m already yours." 

Oh monkey feathers. Aang laughs helplessly as fresh tears spring to his eyes. 

“We’re quite the pair.” He says through the lump in his throat. “Can I come to you?” He asks gently.

“No, but if you can wait a few hours, I can come to you. My father’s hired someone to follow me. I don’t think he’ll be here much longer.”

“Christ, Zuko.”

“Trust me, I know.” Aang listens as Zuko pauses. “That's why I said what I did, but that's no excuse. I panicked, and I was cruel to you. Aang, are you sure you still want… me? This isn’t your fight. You shouldn’t have to deal with my fucked up family politics.”

Deep conviction seizes him, and Aang feels the fire that fuels him now, bright and burning.

“You’re wrong. This _is_ my fight now. Have you already forgotten? You’re never alone.”

He hears Zuko chuckle weakly on the line.

“I never took it off, you know? The pendant you carved. It’s been the only thing keeping me from falling apart through all of this.”

Aang’s breath hitches. The revelation melts the last of his reservations to nothing. He sinks into his seat, a pile of bones and a fluttering heart.

“Please be here soon, Zuko.”

A sigh.

“As soon as I can.”


	13. Back To You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, content warning for a lot of mature and explicit material in this chapter. If it's not your jam, you can read until the three little stars, that's when the very hot and heavy make up... ahem, starts.

Zuko feels like his heart is in his throat standing on the sidewalk in front of the townhouse. It looms over him, its windows glaring.

The Uber drives off, leaving him to face his trial alone. Aang his judge, jury and executioner. Of course Aang had sounded forgiving on the phone, but there were still oceans of hurt Zuko had to cross before things between them were mended. He shakes his head and fishes for his phone, his footsteps echoing across the quiet street. Only the length of his shadow keeps him company here.

 _I’m outside._ He texts, standing on the front step now.

He hears the gentle click of the lock, and his heart stutters. Aang is standing in his dark brown jeans, the collar of a plaid yellow shirt peeking out from the neck of his orange sweater, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looks so endearingly young like this, and Zuko’s expression softens to a smile without his consent.

Aang moves to give him room to come inside, already holding a hanger for his coat. Nothing would curb Aang’s considerate nature, it seemed.

Shirking his coat and stuffing his gloves and toque in the pockets, he hands it to Aang to hang in the closet. They still haven’t exchanged a word. He toes off his shoes, and Aang leads him through the house, around to the door leading to the basement from the kitchen.

Warm light greets them as they descend the carpeted stairs, coming into Aang's cosy living room. He sees the familiar brown couch and easy chair arranged around a coffee table, facing a large smart TV that Zuko is fairly sure Aang doesn’t use all that often. There are small personal touches to indicate it’s Aang’s space - a photo album he keeps from his life in PEI, a copy of Anne of Green Gables -”It’d be treason not to have one,” Aang had told him once. Otherwise, Aang has little in the way of personal possessions. 

The only light on is a salt rock lamp, its pink glow making the room feel inviting and comfortable. This too is Aang’s. Next to the light, Zuko notices a teapot and two mugs. 

“I thought some tea would be a good idea. I ordered some of that coveted green tea from Zambia online.” Here he gives Zuko a knowing smile. 

He chuckles, feeling his heart grow several sizes bigger in his chest. Before he can say anything, Aang takes a seat on the floor by the coffee table with his legs crossed under him, gesturing for Zuko to join him. Swallowing, he does so. 

He realizes he’s completely out of his depths. Zuko struggled to know what to say at the best of times, and now he finds himself utterly tongue tied. Once he’s settled, he looks around the room, anything to avoid Aang’s earnest eyes.

“I missed being here.” He says wistfully. 

Aang smiles gently and pours the tea into the mugs, handing one to Zuko. He takes it, grateful for the heat against his palms, and lifts the ceramic cup to his lips to sip gently. The scent of the tea is divine, and the delicate flavour makes some of the knots in his stomach relax. Finally, he meets Aang’s eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Aang.” The words feel thick and heavy in his mouth, and they’ll never be enough. There’s nothing more he can say, and he watches Aang helplessly. He doesn’t need forgiveness, not right now. He just wants to hear Aang say something, anything.

“You know, the hardest thing about not having a family is that I get very attached to the people I come to love. Mostly it’s a good thing, but…” He shrugs. “It also means that I’m more sensitive to loss than some.”

Zuko’s heart feels like it’s being strung out to dry. He opens his mouth to say something, but Aang smiles, holding up a hand.

“I’m not trying to make you feel worse. It’s something of a character flaw of mine, but I'm learning to accept it about myself.” Here he locks eyes with Zuko, and the intensity in his grey eyes makes him shudder. “I can’t even begin to imagine what pain you’ve lived through. I was fortunate to grow up with a loving parent, and my childhood was, by all accounts, perfectly charmed. I never wanted for love.”

Here, Aang uncrosses his legs and leans forward on a bent knee, reaching for Zuko’s face. His heart is beating like a humming bird’s wings as Aang’s palm comes to rest on the rough skin of his scar.

“I hate that this was done to you.” His eyes are on the scar, appraising it with chilling awe. “I hate that no one was there to help you.”

He’s about to pull away, but Zuko catches his hand against his cheek, leaning into the contact, kissing the heel of Aang’s palm. How could someone so kind ever love him? He was here to make Aang feel better, not the other way around. He wraps his fingers around Aang’s wrist and pulls him forward so that their knees are nearly touching. They’re so close, and Zuko feels like he wants to become a shield for this incredible human, to protect him, to protect his heart. Leaning forward, he wraps his arms around Aang’s shoulders and holds him tightly.

“I’ll always be here for you, as long as you want me to be.” He whispers. “I know I’ve hurt you badly. You deserve to be angry, you deserve to feel the way you feel.”

Pulling back so his eyes are pouring into Aang’s again, he plants a gentle kiss against his temple. “Thank you for always being so kind to me, but tonight is about you.”

Lifting a hand, Zuko wipes at the tears that have started to form in the corner of Aang’s eyes.

“At the heart of it, I was afraid I had been alone all along.” Aang says gently, sitting back down and taking his mug from the table. “Even before tonight, I thought maybe I’d read our relationship all wrong. I worried I’d let the romance blind me, and I wondered if I could really trust myself when I…” He pauses, gathering himself. “I was so lost to you.”

He takes a sip of his tea, and Zuko doesn’t dare speak.

“When I received your text saying you wanted to end things in December, I spent days agonizing over every little detail of the month and a half we’d spent together, thinking I might find some clue somewhere. Even Sokka said it was unlike you.”

He smiles sadly.

“Of course I understand everything now, and I can’t be sure I wouldn’t have done the same thing if our roles were reversed. But Zuko…” His eyes are bottomless, and Zuko is falling into them, losing himself. “I’ve never hurt like that before. And it’s terrifying.”

Inhaling sharply, Zuko holds Aang’s gaze, willing him to continue.

“I need you to be honest with me from now on. If we’re going to be together, I need you to communicate with me. If you’re up against something like this again, I need you to tell me. If you fall out of love with me, I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me.”

Zuko finds Aang’s frankness enlightening, and awe inspiring. He finds himself hanging on every word, and he’s not sure he could be brave enough to do as Aang is doing now.

“By the same token, I’ll treat you with the same respect. I’ll talk to you when I have a problem, and if I feel like things aren’t working, I’ll tell you, I won’t just leave you wondering. If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that relationships are hard.” He smiles here. “They’re also wonderful, and downright sexy.” He smirks, enjoying the blush creeping onto Zuko’s face. “But a strong relationship is a mutual choice, it’s meeting each other halfway, and working through the darkest days together.” 

He stops, laying a hand over Zuko’s on his knee.

“I want a relationship with you, Zuko. A real relationship. And I’ll respect you if your heart’s not in the same place.”

Zuko can’t believe how his stomach rises to greet his heart, and he feels as though the floor has gone out from under him. He falls, falls and falls. 

“Aang.” He almost sobs his name. He swallows back the desperation threatening to claim his tone and grounds himself, turning his hand so he can curl his fingers around Aang’s. “I want a relationship with you, too. Communication has always been difficult for me, but I’ve never been challenged like this before, and I know I can learn, for you. For us.” He searches Aang’s face, and it looks like he’s considering something in Zuko’s words.

“For starters, I’m terrified, too.” He says. “Before this moment, I didn’t know what it felt like to have something so precious that I could lose. But I know it’s up to me to do the work, and while I can’t promise perfection-”

“No one can.” Aang whispers, his eyes soft.

Zuko smiles back at him. “What I can promise is dedication, to keep learning, and to make the choice to improve every time I fall short.”

He’s not expecting anything, much less for Aang to launch himself at him so he falls back to the carpet, Aang’s mouth on his in a bruising kiss. He’s too in shock to respond in time, and Aang pulls back, his eyes lidded.

“Nothing is sexier than healthy communication, Zuko.” He smiles languidly, an echo of the smile from the night they met, and it sends Zuko spinning.

“Your Occupational Therapist is showing.” He teases, and brings a hand to Aang’s neck to pull him back down. He captures his lips, moving gently at first, then running the seam of Aang’s bottom lip with his tongue, and he invades his mouth as he gasps. He dives deep with his tongue, tasting Aang, trying to breathe his air. He feels Aang moan into the kiss, and it sends his blood straight to his groin.

Breaking the kiss, Zuko cups Aang’s face with a hand.

“Aang… I want to make love to you.”

He sees the surprise first, then the deep red blush that spreads from his cheeks all the way to his ears. He screws his eyes shut and buries his face in Zuko’s shoulder.

“People don’t just _say_ that.” His voice is muffled against Zuko’s shirt. “Of course _you’re_ the only one who would.” 

He wraps his arms around Aang’s back and holds him there, enjoying the feeling of his weight and warmth above him.

“I love you.” He whispers in his ear. “I love you, Aang.”

He can’t help but laugh when Aang lets out a strangled groan. He finally lifts his face, and he’s still flushed, making the blue of his tattoo look almost like it’s glowing.

“I love you, too.”

*** 

Aang moves to stand, leading Zuko to his bedroom by the hand. He has another rock salt lamp by his bed, which he switches on as Zuko closes the door. The light is gentle, almost like candlelight. Its warm glow casts beautiful shadows over Aang’s handsome face and neck, his eyes shining in the gloom.

Zuko crosses the distance between them, playing with the hem of Aang’s sweater.

“This needs to come off.” He says suggestively. Aang’s expression turns to one of mischief, and he pulls off his sweater, letting it fall in a heap on the floor. Then he lifts his fingers to the buttons, undoing them until his shirt falls open.

“That can stay.” Zuko says just as Aang is about to shrug it off.

Saying nothing, Aang only smirks back, sending Zuko’s pulse scattering. He drinks in how hot Aang looks, his toned chest and stomach exposed, and the sleeves of his shirt folded up to his elbows, where his tattoos travel down his forearms over sinewy muscle.

“I want you against the wall.” He realizes Aang seems to enjoy being commanded, and plays on this, seeing how far he wants to go. He watches as Aang crosses the room to the wall across from the bed, leaning back against it.

“What now?” He asks, and his smile is almost cat-like.

“Now,” Zuko pauses to cage him with his arms. “I have my way with you.”

He tilts his head and goes straight for Aang’s gorgeous neck, licking up from his collar to the base of his jaw, and Aang moans beautifully for him.

“Zuko. Fuck.”

He loves it when Aang drops the f-bomb, as it’s a very rare treat. And, much to Zuko’s delight, almost exclusively when they’re in the middle of _this._

He steps between Aang’s legs and hoists him against the wall, to which Aang exclaims in surprise, but lifts his legs, curling them around his waist. His thighs are strong, and the thought sends Zuko into a fever dream involving a lot less clothing. But first, he wants now.

He continues to abuse Aang’s neck, biting down at the place where his neck and shoulder connect, and he sucks, hard.

“You better-” Aang’s cut off as he gasps. “leave a mark.” 

Zuko bites down with a growl. “I’m the one giving orders, remember?”

“Yes sir.” Aang breathes, craning his neck to give Zuko access.

Aang’s skin tastes sweet on Zuko’s tongue, and he almost never wants to stop. He hears his breath coming in shallow gasps, and pulls away to appreciate the bruise that’s already forming.

Tilting his head up, Zuko presses his lips to Aang’s chastely, then moves so he can whisper into the shell of his ear. “Open your mouth.”

He hears Aang curse under his breath, but he obliges. When he does, Zuko claims his mouth again, twining their tongues together.

He lets himself drown in everything Aang is - his lips, how he tastes, how he feels and the beautiful scent of him, refreshing and lively, like a fresh breeze on a summer day.

He sighs into the kiss and smirks when Aang bites his bottom lip, breathing Zuko's name into his mouth, and gods, it makes him feel like he's on fire. He thrusts his pelvis up, grinding sinfully against Aang through their jeans, and it's the most wonderful kind of torture. Unable to stop himself, Zuko lets out a moan of his own, feeling Aang breathing hard against his lips. 

“Zuko, I need you.” He pleads, moving against him in earnest, and Zuko can feel something wet starting to spread from behind his jeans.

Whirling Aang around, he lays him on the bed.

“I want you naked. Now.”

Aang wastes no time shrugging off his shirt the rest of the way and divesting himself of his jeans and boxer briefs, kicking them to the floor at the foot of the bed. Finally, Zuko looks down at him, admiring every inch of his bare skin. The sight never fails to steal his breath away.

The heat from having Aang against the wall begins to transform as he watches the rise and fall of Aang’s chest with his breathing. His lips are swollen, a ravaged ruin, but his eyes. His eyes are bright and open and bottomless. Aang is looking at him with so much trust, it breaks Zuko’s heart. 

Straddling Aang’s hips, Zuko locks eyes with him as he runs his fingers along the tattoos down his arms, lacing their fingers together. He can't fight the blush that creeps over his cheeks as Aang brings his hand to his lips, peppering his knuckles with gentle kisses. 

Tender affection swells in him, and Zuko stands to undress himself, putting on a bit of a show for his lover by going slower than he needs to. He does it without looking up, pretending innocence, but he can feel Aang’s eyes on him as he sheds his clothing - first his shirt, then his jeans and his own boxer briefs. He stands in the dim light, leaving only the pendant Aang carved for him.

He comes around the side of the bed and takes Aang's hand.

"Come here?" He asks gently. Aang looks at him with a question in his eyes, but he moves to the side of the bed and stands. Zuko leans in, capturing Aang’s lips again - slowly, passionately, drinking him in again after so long. Bringing his hands to Aang's bare shoulders, he gently guides him to turn, brushing his lips down Aang's neck down to his back.

Keeping his lips on Aang's skin, Zuko reaches for the bedside drawer, and he's pleased when he finds the bottle of lubricant is still there.

He hears Aang sigh, and Zuko kisses along his lover's shoulders, enjoying the way goosebumps appear over his skin. He lifts his head from Aang's shoulder and brings his mouth to his ear.

"You'll be more comfortable kneeling on the bed." He whispers. He sees Aang shudder, but he climbs onto the bed again, his knees bent under him. Zuko wraps an arm around Aang's chest, encouraging him to rest his head against his shoulder.

Here, Zuko squeezes a bit of lubricant into his palm and holds his hands together to warm it. He can feel Aang's eyes on him as he does.

"What are you planning?" Aang breathes, craning his neck to look up at him.

"You'll see. Close your eyes."

Once the gel feels warm, Zuko lowers a hand to Aang's length and begins to stroke him, tilting his head to kiss Aang's temple as he does. He watches as Aang's mouth falls open, his eyebrows knitting and his breath hitching.

"I love you." Zuko whispers.

_I'm so sorry._

He's not sure how so much happiness and sadness can exist in him at once. He missed Aang so much, and feeling his warmth against him now makes his heart ache. He doesn't know how he survived a month away, and the thought of a future without him sends a stabbing pain straight to his heart.

"I almost lost you." He says. "I won't be so careless again."

Aang's breath is short and quick, deep crimson staining his cheeks as he fails to respond. Instead, he stretches his long arms to lace his hands behind Zuko's neck.

Dropping his lips to Aang's jaw, Zuko kisses him as he runs his thumb over Aang's head, keeping his strokes to a steady rhythm, the lubricant making his hand glide easily along his lover's tantalizingly smooth length.

"Aang, you're so stunning." He breathes, marvelling at the way Aang's body stretches out below him - all impossibly long limbs and surprising strength that belies his slim build. He can only see Aang's arrow tattoo on his forehead, and the blue sloping lines that travel his inner thighs, disappearing under his knees. He feels Aang lean into him, lifting his chin.

“Zuko, I’m gonna-”

Closing his lips over Aang's, Zuko strokes him through to his climax, swallowing his lover's moan as he feels hot cum spill over his hand.

Aang gasps into his mouth, shuddering violently through his orgasm. His chest is heaving as his arms spasm around Zuko's neck, clinging to him. Zuko pulls his hand away, holding it aloft as he ghosts the fingers of his clean hand against Aang's arm. He smiles as he pulls his lips away from Aang's, meeting lidded grey eyes.

"Wow." Is all Aang whispers.

Zuko stands patiently, allowing Aang to come down from his high. He realizes he wouldn't mind standing like this forever if it meant having Aang near him.

"You alright?" He asks.

Aang manages a dopey smile as he nods. "Very alright."

"Aang," Zuko whispers. "I'm sorry. Really."

Aang unlaces his fingers and moves so he's laying in the middle of the bed, pulling Zuko to lay next to him. Once there, Aang rests his head on his hand, and his eyes are filled with kindness. His other hand rests on Zuko's chest.

"We'll get through this." He says quietly. "All of it. The hurt, your father. We can make it out together."

Screwing his eyes shut, Zuko inhales deeply.

"I love you." He hears Aang say, and it makes him smile, even as his head spins with all his anxious thoughts.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make this about me." He opens his eyes, staring up at the ceiling.

Aang shakes his head. "Talk to me. Please."

He's not even sure where to begin, but somehow it doesn't seem to matter anymore.

"I haven't had to think about my father much since the court order. It's been seventeen years."

Seventeen long years of painfully learning to accept himself, to forgive himself, to understand that what his father had done wasn't his fault.

"I had no reason to believe I'd ever see him again."

Aang reaches for his hand, lacing their fingers together.

"I'm sorry, Zuko."

"I have another sister." He says. "Azula. I didn't tell you about her before because her story invariably meant I had to talk about my father. Our relationship hasn't been the best. I think Azula suffered more than I did." He pauses, meeting Aang's eyes. "I'm working with her to take my father down."

He tells Aang everything, then. About growing up with Ozai, about life after the divorce, about the fights and being expelled. It all comes tumbling from his lips in a stream of consciousness. Aang listens, encouraging him to talk until his mouth is dry. When he's poured everything from his heart, Aang is holding him.

"Thank you for telling me." His grey eyes are bright and sincere. "You've been through hell, and I'm sorry you had to live through so much pain."

"I'm going to change it. I'm over being afraid."

"You have some good people around you. I'm glad you're already working with your sister, but I think it might be a good idea to talk to Sokka and Katara, too. Isn't their dad in government? He might be a help."

Zuko hadn't even considered it.

"You're right." Here he grimaces. "Shit. Sokka is going to be so pissed."

Aang chuckles. "Yeah, he hasn't been too impressed with your radio silence."

Zuko closes his eyes, groaning.

He feels soft lips on his and sighs.

"It's okay, we'll talk to them together." He feels Aang pull away. "But that can wait until tomorrow."

He feels nimble fingers play across his skin, down his stomach, stopping just before his groin.

"I can't just leave you hanging." Aang whispers.

The implication is enough to entice him, and Zuko opens his eyes.

"How do you want me?" He asks, knowing Aang liked to lead their love making.

"I was thinking we could change things up this time." A coy smile plays on Aang's lips as he lowers his mouth to whisper in Zuko's ear. "I want you to fuck me."

_Well then._

Zuko growls, tackling Aang down and kissing him, hard. Aang wraps his legs around his back and thrusts upwards, moaning. Zuko bites his bottom lip, grinding down into Aang's hips. All his blood drains south, and he's so hard he hurts. He pulls himself free, breathing heavily as he appreciates the look on his lover's face.

Aang’s still chasing his breath, his chest heaving as Zuko leans over him to take the bottle of lube from the bedside table again. He sits back and squeezes a generous amount onto his fingers, coating them. 

“Are you alright?” He asks.

Aang nods wordlessly, and Zuko spreads Aang’s legs, lifting his hips to give himself access to Aang’s opening. He massages the puckered skin before pressing inside slowly. He sighs as he feels the hot warmth that is Aang, and begins to move his finger inside him. Aang’s moan comes from his chest as he throws his head back, his toes curling.

Zuko adds a second finger, and this earns him a gasp as he scissors Aang apart, penetrating deep. He does this until he can add a third finger and begins to fuck him with his hand. Aang moans loudly, and Zuko smiles.

"You'll wake Sokka and Katara."

Bringing his wrist to his mouth, Aang bites down, muffling further moans as Zuko fingers him, abusing his prostate.

“Just fuck me already.” He demands as he looks down at Zuko, his brows steepled.

"With pleasure." He smirks.

Pulling his fingers out, Zuko squeezes more lube into his palm and slicks himself liberally. When he’s ready, he reaches down to place the bottle on the floor and climbs over Aang, kissing him.

Reaching between them, he lines himself up, finding Aang’s opening and pressing against him.

“Mm.” Aang moans into his mouth, and Zuko pushes inside him, slowly, until he’s buried in Aang's hot wetness up to his hilt. He feels Aang tense around him, shivering.

“Are you alright?” He asks again.

“More… than alright.” Aang manages, but barely.

Here, Zuko hooks his elbow under Aang’s right knee and spreads him open. He leans in so their chests are flush against each other, and curls his other arm under his neck. 

“I love you.” He says again. “Aang. I’m yours.”

And then he moves - rocking his hips, hard. 

Thrust.

“Fuck.”

Thrust.

A strangled moan.

Again.

“Zuko…”

And then again and again and again, burying himself as deep as he can inside his lover, moaning into Aang’s shoulder as hot pleasure rockets up his spine. He feels Aang’s fingers curled in his hair, tugging exquisitely. 

“Fuck, Aang.”

“Cum inside me.” He moans.

And Zuko can’t even think anymore. He picks up his pace, slamming into Aang so he's almost screaming beneath him. Soon, there’s nothing in the world but Aang beneath him and around him as he fucks him, he fucks him, he fucks him, he loves him. Their hips grinding together furiously, the bed rocking violently, and Aang is so fucking tight and hot around him. 

And _he loves him, he loves him, he loves him._

"Aang!"

Blinding pleasure crashes over him as he cums, and he feels Aang cum beneath him just a moment later as they shudder against each other, clinging to one another helplessly as their orgasms ruin them. 

Zuko falls limp against him, unwinding his arm from his leg, letting him lower it comfortably. Aang holds him close, kissing his cheeks, the bridge of his nose and his forehead.

“I love you.” Aang whispers against his lips. “I love you.” And it sounds like the sweetest prayer.

Finally, Zuko rolls off, pulling Aang into a kiss as he does. They hold each other, kissing for what feels like an eternity, their legs entwined. 

Exhaustion threatens to pull Zuko under, but he fights it, resting his weight on an elbow.

“We should shower.” He says gently. 

Aang is already half asleep, but he manages a smile.

“Sure. You might have to keep me from drowning, though.” 

Zuko laughs a little and kisses Aang again before pulling him out of bed towards the bathroom.

Tonight is for love, he thinks. Tomorrow he’ll tell Aang how he plans to take Ozai down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! You don't have to cry anymore. They are happy together again 💕


	14. Rock Bottom

The next month goes by in a blur. Now that everyone was reunited, there were many heads involved in righting Ozai’s wrongs. And it was bigger than just Aang and Zuko’s relationship - it was about justice. 

Sokka and Katara forgave Zuko easily enough, but Sokka still razzed him about his disappearance every now and then. 

Currently Aang was seated at the kitchen table with his roommates around Sokka’s laptop for a zoom meeting. Azula and Zuko’s faces look out at them from their respective locations as they discuss their findings about Ozai so far.

“I’ve managed to get a copy of the court order for my father, and Azula has a few news networks she’s ready to send the story to if things get bad.” Zuko explains, holding up a folder in front of him.

“And I’ve compiled all the workplace bullying complaints we pulled together from different online sources.” 

Azula explained that she had managed to get into a private Facebook group composed mainly of hospital employees, and through some anonymous polling, she had a number of hospital staff members who said they’d be willing to speak out against Ozai if they were called to do so legally. She had their contact information saved privately, and had put together all the legal documentation stating that none of the information would be released or used without their consent.

“And don’t forget dad.” Katara chimes in. “He’s agreed to help if we need him.”

“So all that’s left is to deliver the threat.” Azula says, leaning forward with her hands folded together.

“I think it should be in person.” Zuko cuts in. “I should be the one to do it. Dad needs to know I’m serious, and I don’t really want to leave a paper trail if we can avoid it. I’d like to handle this with as little drama as possible to keep my name out of the public, but I will speak up if I have to.”

“So what happens if Ozai doesn’t take the bait?” Sokka asks pragmatically. “Do we have a back up plan?”

Zuko is too quiet, and Aang knows that look. 

“You’re going to risk yourself.” He says knowingly, informed by his education. Aang had read a few case studies about patients treated for abuse trauma. “If your father attacks you, you can press charges.”

Zuko holds their eyes and gives a short nod.

“He knows the rules though,” Sokka interjects. “Better than anyone, I bet. He’ll probably avoid all in person contact with you.”

“I have something he wants.” Zuko says dangerously. "A family heirloom that's worth more money than his entire net worth."

Sokka nods. "Okay, so you can draw him out, but where?"

Zuko's quiet for a moment. "I'm not sure."

Aang leans in, holding a hand out in front of him. “When you do see him, we can plan to be around as backup in case you need it. If things get ugly, the last thing you need is to be alone.”

Zuko nods.

“Try to record your conversation, I can have news crews covering the story live if you have something interesting enough to show them.” Azula suggests. 

“So now we just need to decide where this is going to happen.” Katara speaks up. “Aang, you said something about Ozai creeping you on LinkedIn?”

Aang nods. “Yeah. Azula, you’re the only one who wouldn’t know this already, but Ozai’s been coming to the bar I work nights at for the last couple months on and off. I only realized it was him after I saw that he’d checked my profile back in November.”

Azula rolls her eyes. “Unbelievable. You’d think after using a loophole in Facebook privacy settings to stalk my brother, he’d be wiser than lurking on your LinkedIn. Guessing you have a Premium account?” 

Aang nods. 

“So maybe the White Lotus is where this needs to happen. It’s public, which means it’s safer for Zuko.” Aang says meaningfully. “We can choose a night I’m working, and I can text if I see Ozai.”

Everyone agrees and the next few minutes are spent pouring through individual schedules to decide on a few evenings to keep clear. Once they have the date set, they end the zoom meeting. Aang excuses himself to the basement to get comfortable, and starts a one on one call with Zuko.

“So, a week from now, huh?” Aang says in greeting when Zuko’s face appears on his screen.

“Yeah, if all goes well.”

“This doesn’t even feel real.” Aang muses. “If I’d known life would be this exciting in Calgary, I’d have moved here sooner.”

Zuko sighs, but he’s smiling. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“I miss you.”

Out of an abundance of caution, Zuko had told Aang that they shouldn’t see each other in person until Ozai had been dealt with. It had been a long month. There had been many phone calls and online meetings, like they were a secret society of vigilante justice warriors. 

“Yeah, I miss you too.” Zuko says gently. “Just another week.”

***

Later that evening, Aang is in the upstairs living room with Sokka and Katara watching a movie when the doorbell rings. 

“I got it.” Aang says, rising from his seat. 

He crosses the room and opens the door, bracing himself against a cool draft. His brows jump up onto his forehead when he sees two Calgary Police standing on the doorstep.

“Good evening sir, we’re looking for someone by the name of Aang.” One officer with broad shoulders says.

“Oh, uh, that’s me.” Aang says, his heart starting to race.

“I’m afraid we need you to come with us.”

Aang’s heart stops.

“What? Why?” 

“Charges of sexual assault of a minor, sir. We just need to take your information and ask you a few questions. You’ll be allowed time to contact a lawyer to defend your case.”

Aang feels the world narrow around him, and his knees go weak beneath him.

“Aang, what’s wrong?” Sokka and Katara are standing behind him now.

“I’m being arrested.” He breathes.

***

Aang sits in the grey police station with his fingers laced between his knees, his eyes glued to the floor. His right thumb bears the remnants of black ink from his fingerprints being taken. He’d had to fill out a number of sheets with his personal information, and now he sits waiting. Someone at the White Lotus had accused him of sexually molesting them, a minor no less. Probably someone who’d come in with a fake ID. He was too in shock to feel much of anything, and Aang wondered how he wasn’t currently hyperventilating. 

“Sir,” the stern voice of a female cop brings him out of his reverie."I just need to ask you a few questions, if you'll follow me."

Aang follows the officer into a small room with nothing but a grey table and two chairs in the middle of it. On the table sits a laptop. When the door is closed behind them, they each take a seat at the table.

"Sir, I just need you to confirm a few details for me."

Aang nods, trying to ignore the way his heart has leapt into his throat.

"You work as a bartender at the White Lotus, correct?"

"Yes."

"Do you know this man?" She says this as she opens a picture on the laptop. It's a young boy, but Aang doesn't recognize him. But his eyes. There's something familiar about them, though he can't place it.

"I don't think so."

"Do you know him or not?" She asks impatiently.

Sitting straighter, Aang shakes his head. "I don't."

"Well, we have a video that says otherwise."

Here the officer takes the laptop and opens a video player. Aang holds his breath as grainy footage begins to play - and his eyes widen when we sees two bodies wrestling with each other, and it's _him._ From the night he was attacked, but the first half of the attack is missing. It's just Aang slamming the smaller body against the wall, pinning his wrists and leaning in. The quality of the video is so poor that it's hard to make out what's happening. As Aang watches, his chest clenches - it almost looks like he's forcing himself on the boy.

"I was attacked!" Aang retorts. "That's only half of what happened."

"So this is you?"

Aang pales, coming up short.

"Yes, but-"

"Sir, I would recommend that you lawyer up before you say more."

Snapping his mouth shut, Aang bites his tongue against further protests.

"You're currently completing your Occupational Therapy placement, am I right?"

Aang nods wordlessly.

"And do you work with minors there?"

Aang nods again, and the officer crosses her arms over her chest.

“In that case, you’re allowed to go home, but until the outcome of your trial, you’ll have to resign from your fieldwork placement. We’re sorry, but you can’t have contact with any minors until you’re given a clean slate.”

Aang feels the world fall away, nodding hollowly.

“I understand.”

"Good. I'll show you out."

He stands shakily, barely registering his steps as he follows the officer out to the waiting room. Under punishing fluorescent lights, he feels strong arms wrap around him, and lips against his cheek.

“Aang, I’m here.” 

“Zuko…” 

His expression crumples, and tears come unbidden.

“I have to drop out of my fieldwork placement.” He whispers, and Zuko crushes him in a painful hug.

“This doesn’t end here.”


	15. Stand

Zuko’s volkswagen sails along the darkened road looking like a shark swimming under the light of the streetlamps. He never thought he’d go back, but as he crests the hill to his father’s opulent estate, he feels like he never had any other choice. 

His childhood home holds no warm memories for him, and he feels a chill run down his spine as he pulls into the stone-paved driveway. 

Feeling like a hot wire, Zuko climbs out, holding the wooden box in his hands, and slams his door behind him. He raises his eyes to the wrought iron door framed by a mosaic of stones and strides forward. He doesn't pause at the steps, instead he puts one foot in front of the other, coming to the landing and rings the doorbell. Here, he takes a step back and waits in the cool night air, the dark indigo shadows of trees surrounding the property reaching for him with their needle thick branches.

A light comes on inside and the door screeches open. His father’s gleaming amber eyes appraise him before pulling the door wide.

“You’re late.” He says, coolly. "The seal?"

Zuko stands on the front step, grateful for the cool air. Lifting the box, he opens the lid to show his father the seal. Just as Ozai reaches out to take it, he snaps the lid shut and steps back.

“First, we need to talk.”

His father gestures for him to come inside, but Zuko shakes his head.

“Out here.” 

It had taken a few days to get the paperwork done through Victim Services which would allow him to legally contact his father without consequence. After a tense phone call, his father agreed to see him, as long as it was on his terms.

“I know you’re the one who planted the charges against Aang.” He says.

Ozai’s eyes turn steely, his lips curling.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He narrows his eyes. “I think you do.” He cocks his chin. “You will take it all back, or you won't get this seal, and I ruin _your_ career.” 

Ozai’s eyes light up with horrible mirth, and he throws his head back to laugh.

“Oh? And how do you plan to do that?”

“After you got out of jail, you had twelve years to get yourself back on track. Before you did this-” he gestures to his face. “-you were just starting out. But now? You’re one of Alberta’s best. You’re a household name.”

Ozai gives him an impatient look.

“So I wonder what would happen if Ozai’s son suddenly came forward with his story? Burned at age thirteen, held to a stovetop by his father.” Zuko’s voice is deadly. “How many people would talk?”

Ozai’s expression falls, then twists into something ugly.

“You wouldn’t dare. I can still make your life hell, son.”

“You already have.” Zuko whispers. “Not anymore.”

He takes out his phone.

“Give Aang his career back, or I text Azula, and my story goes live.”

Ozai’s eyes widen at the mention of his daughter. He knows better than anyone the influence Azula holds, the connections she has - she sits at the centre of the proverbial web. One twitch of a finger, and the world shakes.

Ozai’s anger drops out of him, replaced by eerie calm.

“Why bother, Zuko? Even if you do save your little boy toy’s career, I doubt he’d stay. You made sure of that.”

Zuko stills, fisting his hands at his sides.

“Do you really think he’ll stick around after everything you’ve put him through? All you had to do was walk away, son. My terms were simple.”

“And I kept to those terms.” Zuko lies. “So why?”

Ozai quirks a brow at him. “Did you really think you were the only one being followed?”

_Of fucking course._

“You had someone watching the townhouse.”

Ozai nods. “This is your fault, Zuko.” He smirks. “Where is your boy toy now?”

Zuko looks away, cringing.

“You’ve already lost him, haven’t you?” He drawls. “And yet you think if you save his career, he’ll come back? Don’t be so foolish, son.”

Zuko’s digging his nails into his palms so hard he’s sure he’s breaking skin.

“That doesn’t matter.” He bites out. “He doesn’t deserve this. Call it off and I'll give you the seal.”

Ozai pauses, his eyes on the box. Finally, he shrugs.

"I'm a wealthy man, Zuko. Keep your seal, and stay away from boyfriends, hm?" Here, he gestures towards the driveway. “I think you should leave. You’ve done enough damage, don’t you think?”

“Not enough.” Zuko raises his eyes. “I gave you a choice, you’ve made yours. Did you know that there is a small army of people who want to take you down almost as badly as I do? Because I didn’t until just a few weeks ago.”

Finally, Ozai looks taken aback.

“That’s right. It’s not just me. It seems you’ve been making a lot of enemies at work.”

His father gives him a look that borders on feral, and he stalks forward, forcing Zuko to step back. 

“You dare threaten me in my own home?” His voice is silken. “Do you think my influence stops at the piece of ass you’ve been burying your cock in?”

Zuko feels white hot rage shoot through him, and he stops so he and his father are nearly nose to nose.

“Threaten me, and I can ruin everything you love.”

Zuko bares his teeth. “Like you did Aang?”

“Exactly. You’d be surprised how eager a young boy can be to lie when he’s offered more money than he makes in a year at his part-time summer job.”

“You bribed a kid to press charges?!” 

His father’s laugh is low and throaty. “And I can do worse.”

“A little louder for those of us in the back.” 

Zuko relaxes, and a smile spreads over his lips as he eases his face away from his father’s, turning to watch Sokka emerging from just around the house, his phone in his hand. Next to him is Katara, and finally, Aang. 

All the blood drains out of Ozai’s face.

“ _You.”_ He growls in Aang’s direction. 

Aang shrugs, coming to stand at Zuko’s shoulder.

“You know, more often than not, it’s the other way around.” Zuko drawls, quirking his brow at his father.

Aang laughs, immediately understanding Zuko’s meaning.

“ _What?”_ Ozai is almost foaming.

Aang smirks. “Don’t let these puppy eyes fool you. I’m a top.”

Ozai roars and lunges for Aang.

Not thinking, Zuko drops the box and throws himself between them, pushing Aang out of the way as his father’s fist careens with his jaw with a sickening crack. Zuko sees stars as he staggers backward, and he loses his footing on the edge of the step. He sails back, and it feels like time has slowed as he sees Aang rushing towards him. He has the presence of mind to break his fall by throwing his hands back, palms stretched wide as he comes down on the stone driveway. His shoulders take most of the impact, but the angle of his fall makes it impossible to keep the back of his head from smacking down next. He can taste blood in his mouth as throbbing pain blooms through his ribs and his head. He turns his body to cough, spitting blood.

He feels himself being tugged violently by the front of his coat, and he braces himself for the impact of his father’s fist once more.

_That’s right. Make this easy for me.  
_

But it never comes.

Zuko’s vision swims, and he’s not sure why he’s seeing Aang’s tattoos like disembodied stripes of sky. They move swiftly, jumping and dodging, and Zuko admires the movement like it’s a dance. 

Finally, his eyes seem to focus, and he realizes that his father is attacking Aang in earnest. But Aang is all acrobatics and grace, and he manages to duck and dodge around his father’s punches. He watches in awe as Aang falls to a crouch on his right leg, pulling his left around in a kick to his father’s ankles. He hears Ozai yelp, and sees him pitch forward to the ground. As soon as he’s down, Sokka is on him, keeping him prostrate. Katara is on the phone speaking urgently, and Zuko feels dizziness and nausea wash over him.

“Zuko, I’m here.” Aang says, falling to his knees at his side. “Stay with me.”

His stomach lurches, and Zuko vomits as black begins to threaten his vision from the corners of his eyes.

He’s so tired, but Aang’s holding him, his grey eyes heavy with concern. “You have to stay awake. Help will be here any minute.”

He sees the cast of flashing blue and red lights on Aang’s skin before two white-clad paramedics crowd him. Everything he feels is as though from under water, and he can barely stay awake.

The paramedics ask him questions which he answers weakly. Finally satisfied, they move him onto a stretcher and roll him into the back of an ambulance. The face of an officer looms over him now, and Zuko swallows.

“I want to press charges.” He rasps. 

Finally, he lets exhaustion pull him under, and he loses consciousness. 

***

He hears the gentle hum of fluorescent lights as he comes to, blinking up at a familiar face that smiles down at him.

“Nephew.” His voice is full of relief. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

“Uncle?” Zuko's throat feels like sandpaper as he utters the question, then winces at the tenderness in his jaw.

His uncle watches him with warm affection. He holds up a finger and walks over to the door to the room, pulling it open. Zuko smiles as he sees Sokka, Katara and Aang shuffle inside, taking up spots around his hospital bed. He’s surprised when he sees Azula step through the door as well. Iroh nods at her, smiling kindly.

“Hey guys.” He croaks.

“You look fucking terrible.” Sokka says gently, resting a hand on Zuko’s shoulder.

He smiles. “Yeah, I feel pretty terrible.”

“You’re going to be feeling that concussion for a while.” Katara says, taking one of his hands.

He groans, giving his uncle an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.” He says. 

Iroh lifts a hand. “Why don’t you tell me everything from the beginning?”

Zuko listens as the room settles into the story, Aang starting it off, then continuing with additional details thrown in by everyone else. 

At the end of it all, Iroh is leaning back in his chair looking bemused.

“I suppose all we can do is wait.” He looks up at Aang. “How are you?”

Aang’s brows rise in surprise. “Me? Zuko’s the one in the hospital.”

Iroh smiles. “Yes, but I suspect this ordeal has perhaps been just as hard on you.”

Aang lifts a hand to the back of his neck. “It’s been hard, I won’t lie.” He moves to the side of the hospital bed, lacing his finger’s with Zuko’s. “But I think it’s been worth it.” 

Zuko feels his heart do a flip, and he looks up into Aang’s bottomless creek bed eyes, and he swears he can hear the bubbling of water and the singing of birds.

“Am I on morphine?” He asks.

“Your injuries weren’t that bad, bud.” Sokka replies with a laugh.

“Huh.” He muses. He suspects he might be a little muddy from the concussion still.

“I think we should leave you two alone.” Azula says. “Let me know when you’re out of here.”

Zuko nods gratefully as everyone heads for the door, filing out until Aang is the only one left in the room.

The moment they’re alone, Aang’s shoulders sag. He leans forward, resting his weight on the side of the bed.

“Thank you for what you did back there.” He says gently.

Zuko shakes his head. “Don’t thank me yet.” He swallows.

“Aang?” 

“Yeah?”

Zuko pauses, looking into his boyfriend’s face, feeling his chest clench around his heart.

“I’m so sorry for everything.”

Aang shushes him, cradling his face with a palm. “This isn’t your fault. Your father is a manipulative jackass, don’t let him get to you.”

Zuko feels a lump in his throat, but swallows it down.

“But he was right. If I’d just been more careful-”

“Zuko.” Aang warns.

He falls quiet, closing his eyes to lean into the warmth of Aang’s palm.

“You risked everything for me tonight.”

Zuko opens his eyes again, and he brings a hand up to cup the one over his cheek.

“I’d do it again.”

Aang leans down, and pauses just a hair’s breadth away from Zuko’s lips. It had been a month since they’d last kissed.

Moving his other hand to the back of Aang’s neck, Zuko pulls him down. He sighs as they move their lips together, slow and sweet. 

Syrupy warmth spreads through him, and Zuko knows he’d risk everything a hundred times over if it meant he could have this moment, now and forever. 


	16. Silver Linings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me much too long to figure out how to end this story properly. I have one more chapter to add before the epilogue. :)

Aang is in high spirits as he climbs the flights of stairs to his now shared apartment with Zuko. 

A month had passed, and things were looking up. A couple weeks after Ozai was arrested for repeat assault on a domestic abuse victim, the authorities had come down on the kid who’d pressed charges against Aang with a litany of questions spurred by Sokka’s recording. Not ready to face the pressure, he had confessed to accepting Ozai's bribe and to setting up the video of the assault. Aang was acquitted shortly after. Thanks to the quick turnaround, he’d been allowed to keep his spot in his fieldwork placement, and he owed no small thanks to Carolyn’s faith in him when he explained the circumstances.

Unfortunately, the White Lotus needed a night-time bartender, and Aang had been forced to resign at the prospect of an uncertain timeline. 

But Aang was no longer on his own, and Iroh had offered him a part-time job at the Jasmine Dragon while he figured things out. Since the establishment was on the other end of the city, he’d half moved in with Zuko to make his commute easier - a happy side effect. He could only work evenings and weekends, which meant he made less money than he had at the lounge. Zuko had waved him off when he insisted he’d pay for half the rent of the apartment, saying he could pay him back later.

Toting a bag of take out sushi for his concussed boyfriend, he unlocks the door and pushes it open. The apartment is dark, save for the pink glow of Aang's salt rock lamp in the corner of the living room. On the couch, Zuko is laying under a blanket with his headphones on, his hands folded over his stomach. 

“Hey love.” Aang greets gently, and he’s rewarded with a smile.

“Welcome home.” Zuko replies as he removes his headphones and sits up. 

After he’s toed his shoes off, Aang pads over to the couch and crouches down.

“How are you feeling today?” He asks, running a hand through Zuko’s hair affectionately.

“Better.” He replies. “I’ll never get tired of seeing you in that uniform.”

Aang laughs. “Guess green was my colour all along.”

“Uncle says you’re a natural.” Zuko winces. “Thanks for covering for me while I’m laid up.”

Zuko had been housebound thanks to his concussion. He’d had to adopt the vampire lifestyle, living in low lit rooms and fleeing from the sun. He couldn’t look at a screen for long, and worst of all, he couldn’t read. So his days were spent primarily laying on a soft surface listening to audiobooks or sleeping. 

“I really like working in a tea shop, actually. You have some great regulars.”

“Uncle also says you’re a hit with them.”

Aang blushes. “They make it easy.”

Zuko heaves a sigh, massaging his temples with his hands.

“Maybe we could try going for a walk tomorrow evening.” Aang suggests as he brings out the box of sushi and sets it on the coffee table. “Also, you should get some food in you.”

Zuko nods. “Yes to both. What’re you eating?”

“I have some leftovers in the fridge, I’ll just warm that up.” 

Aang is about to stand, but he’s restrained by strong arms around his shoulders. Zuko hugs him sideways and plants a kiss on his cheek before dropping his face to Aang’s shoulder.

“I missed you.” He murmurs shyly. “Thank you for dinner.”

Aang feels his face stretch wide with his smile. “Of course, Zuko.”

“Hey.” He says, and leans in to kiss his boyfriend when he lifts his head again. “I missed you too.”

“I hope you know that the moment I can exist without being dizzy, I’m locking us in the bedroom to make up for lost time.”

“Mm, I look forward to it.” Aang smirks. “But for now, you’re taking it easy.”

Zuko releases him, and after he’s heated up his meal and made tea, he returns to the coffee table. They fall into easy conversation, Aang talking about his day at The Jasmine Dragon, and Zuko telling him about the books he’s been listening to. When they’re done, Aang clears the table and washes up. 

Just as he's hanging the dish towel over the cabinet door under the sink, Aang feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and reaches for it.

 **Kiyi:** _Hey Aang! Mum and I are planning on visiting in a couple weeks. If Zuzu's feeling well enough, we were hoping to see you two for dinner._

Aang smiles.

"Kiyi and your mother are coming to town." He says plopping down next to Zuko.

He's sitting with his eyes closed, letting the couch swallow him into its cushions. He hums appreciatively.

"It'll be nice to see them again without the room spinning. Honestly, concussions suck."

Aang laughs. It wasn't common for Zuko to joke or complain, and hearing him do both is a treat. 

From where he's sitting, Aang looks around the apartment. Zuko has the picture of them dancing together at his birthday in a frame on his bookshelf. Aang's phone charger is plugged into the wall, snaking from behind the TV stand. His boots sit neatly by the door, and if he looks to the kitchen he can see the basket on the counter that holds the produce he bought for his vegetarian recipes. It was in these small ways that his life had started to meld with Zuko's. He'd been caught off guard when Sokka and Katara pointed out he'd even picked up some of his idiosyncrasies, pausing to think through what he wanted to say with his hand on his chin. There were a myriad of other small gestures he'd learned through Zuko's influence, and he was sure he'd never know all of them.

He'd learned so much about Zuko in the last month. He'd learned how tidy he was (fastidiously so), he'd also learned how much time he spent philosophizing, usually spring boarding his thoughts off of the last book he'd listened to. One time, Aang had tried to follow Zuko's spiralling thought process as he spent hours explaining the life-changing epiphany he'd had after he'd listened to a book about the neuroscience and physics of time. All Aang had gathered by the end of it was that brains had a weird relationship with the way they processed time, and that Zuko had a much better grasp of advanced physics than he did.

"I'll let them know you're up for it. You'll just have to live the super vampire life until they visit."

Zuko cracks open a honey golden eye with an impish smile. Aang yelps when strong arms lock around his waist and Zuko pulls him back into the couch, his mouth closing over the skin of his neck.

"Favourite part of vampire life." Zuko mutters against his neck, and the movement sends a chill down Aang's spine.

"You have no idea how much I wish you weren't concussed." Aang groans.

Zuko chuckles against his neck, and Aang curses under his breath as the sensation makes him shiver. "Oh trust me, I think I do."

Technically there _were_ ways around Zuko's symptoms in the bedroom, but his boyfriend was so close to full recovery that he didn't want to risk an accident that might set him back.

“Think you can come to bed?” Aang asks, wrapping his arms around Zuko's shoulders in a quick hug.

“I probably won’t get much sleep, already been napping on and off all day.” He replies, pulling back and letting Aang help him to his feet. “But I’m not passing up time with you.”

“I feel like the concussion is bringing out your soft side.” Aang teases. “Were you always this sweet?”

Zuko glares at him halfheartedly.

"I'm spending too much time with you." He says finally. "You've rubbed off on me."

Once their teeth are brushed, they strip down to their boxers and climb into bed together. 

“Would you read to me?” Zuko asks. 

“I’m surprised you’re not sick of hearing someone’s voice in your ear all day.”

“They’re not you. You could read me the phone book, and I’d be happy.” He pauses. “For a minute.”

Aang laughs. “Sure.”

He reaches for the battered copy of Anne of Green Gables from the bedside table. Before opening the book, he sets it down on the bed, adjusting his position so he’s caging Zuko with his arms. Zuko’s eyes flash gold.

“Cruel.” He growls. “Want you.”

Zuko’s hair is delightfully tousled against his pillow, the gentle light from the bedside lamp washing him in a warm glow. 

“I love you.” Aang says before leaning down to close the distance between their lips. He kisses Zuko long and gentle, nipping at his bottom lip and dropping to his elbows to card his hands through his hair. “You have me.”

They hold each other, kissing until their lips are tired. With a smile, Aang pulls back and rests their foreheads together.

“Love you, too.” Zuko says gently, squeezing Aang around his shoulders.

Flipping onto his back, Aang props himself against a couple pillows on the headboard. Once Zuko is snuggled comfortably into his side, he begins to read.


	17. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter sixteen is a whole new thing. Go read that before you read this. :) You deserved more of an ending, my friends.

Zuko’s so happy to be out of the apartment and back at work that he’s not even bothered by the fluffy white bullshit covering the ground or the overcast skies. After being stuck inside for over a month, he had a new appreciation for the small things. He was a tick short of giddy as he greeted customers. The regulars were delighted to see him, asking how he was feeling and saying they missed seeing him around.

“Oh, and that nice young man who’s been here for the last little while is a charmer!” Pam said gleefully, an older woman who always ordered a peppermint tea with milk and sugar.

Zuko smiles, knowing she means Aang. “Yeah, he _is_ charming.” 

He loved getting to see Aang at work in the tea shop. He was friendly to patrons and staff, and always remained humble when receiving constructive feedback. Zuko avoided playing manager too much, preferring to offer instruction when Aang asked it of him. Even so, Aang took to the work easily, seeming to enjoy himself as he prepared drinks and chatted with customers.

Zuko had to admit it took every ounce of self-restraint he had to keep his hands to himself with Aang around. Why did he have to be so goddamn gorgeous in the uniform? Or just in general? Not that Aang was a saint either. When they were behind the counter together, Zuko would often have to dodge a wayward hand reaching for his backside. They would play the game with each other, seeing who could succeed at copping a feel without patrons noticing. They tried to keep it to a minimum if other associates were working with them, but sometimes the added challenge was a thrill. 

Today Aang had OT work, so Zuko’s backside was safe until he got home. He still hadn’t made good on his threat to lock them in the bedroom together, and he wondered if Aang might have the morning off tomorrow. 

Iroh waved a customer off just as the assistant manager came in through the front door.

“Good evening Jen.” Iroh greets. “Perfect timing.”

Jen smiles at him, shirking her gloves and parka. “I make a point of being on time for my shifts.” She jokes.

It was nearing the end of Zuko’s shift, and in an hour he and Iroh would be meeting Kiyi and his mother for dinner. They’d come to visit a couple times before, but in his concussed state, Zuko hadn’t made for great company. This was the first time he’d be able to sit down with them and talk.

Moving to the back room, Zuko pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to Aang.

 **Zuko:** _Just confirming - think you can still make it to dinner with the family?_

 **Aang:** _Wouldn’t miss it! See you soon. <3 _

Aang always went out of his way to be available for family dinners, and truth be told, his family went out of their way to be available for Aang. 

Zuko wasn’t really one for using emojis, but he sends Aang a heart back before pocketing his phone anyway. It was the least he could do after he’d cooked for him for the better part of the month, all while working two jobs. The man was an angel, he was convinced.

Clocking out, Zuko and Iroh bundle up and climb into the volkswagen to head to Ginza, a mid-tier Japanese Restaurant with a traditionally decorated interior featuring old pottery and sculptures in glass display cases, as well as a small fountain in the middle of the room. His family always loved dining there when they were in town - Ursa especially appreciated the reminder of home. 

When Zuko pulls into the parking lot, he sees Aang’s gala apple plymouth is already there. At least he had winter tires on it now, and only after Zuko had insisted he would pay for them. Aang had only agreed to the purchase on the condition that Zuko would accept a repayment plan. He’d tried to argue, because really, he would have spent the money two times over if it meant Aang would be safer on treacherous winter roads, but there was no winning when Aang made his mind up about something. At least he wouldn’t be getting stuck in anymore snow banks from here on out.

Zuko smiled when he saw Azula leaning against the wall next to the entrance, her arms crossed over her chest. 

“I’ll go ahead and find our table.” Iroh tells him knowingly. He walks up to the doors, giving Azula a wave and a smile.

“Hey Zuzu.” She greets coolly. “You’ve lost weight.”

“Well, it’s not for lack of eating. Aang made sure of that.” Zuko replies. “I’m definitely out of shape, though.”

During the more severe part of his concussion, Zuko hadn’t been able to so much as go for car rides without getting dizzy. He and Aang had managed to get out on a few walks in the evenings when he was feeling better, but that was about the extent of the exercise he got.

“Aang seems… nice.” It’s the first time Azula has really said anything about his boyfriend, and her attempt at kindness makes him smile.

“I’m biased, but he is.” He replies. “Nervous?”

The last time Azula saw their mother was at her graduation from university. The invitation had come as a surprise to all of them.

“No.” She lies. “I’m just wondering if I shouldn’t be doing something better with my time.”

Zuko puts a hand on her shoulder and gives it a squeeze.

“It’s going to be fine.” He assures. “Mother’s missed you, and Kiyi’s always fun.”

When Azula still doesn’t look convinced, Zuko sighs.

“Ask Kiyi to tell you the spider story.”

“The what?” 

“Just ask.” He shudders. His phobia involved waking up to Kiyi’s new pet tarantula on his face, having escaped from its tank in the night. By some miracle, it survived when he sent it flying across the room with an undignified yelp. He’d never been able to face off with a spider the same way again. Thankfully, Aang had no qualms facing down the eight-legged monsters, and he had become the resident spider exterminator in their apartment.

“Now I’m curious.” 

Zuko holds his elbow out for his sister to take with a smirk. “It’ll be worth your time, and I hope you know it’s at great personal sacrifice.”

Azula actually laughs, and she loops her hand in the crook of his elbow.

“Alright, I’m sold.”

They push the door open together and step into the warm foyer. It doesn’t take long to spot Aang with his arm up, waving them over to a table right by the fountain. 

“Is he always this… enthusiastic?” Azula mutters.

“Yes, yes he is.” 

His sister makes a face denoting she’s not sure how she feels about this information, and Zuko laughs. 

“You idiots are perfect for each other.”

The restaurant is quiet, with just a few other people seated at a couple tables. The murmur of their conversation mixing with the bubbling of the little fountain and the distant sounds of food being prepared in the kitchen. The restaurant colours of red, black and brown are soothing, almost beckoning them to come in and make themselves comfortable. When Zuko and Azula reach the table, Ursa stands to pull her daughter into a hug. His sister tenses visibly, but relaxes after a moment to hug back. It’s not the warmest hug he’s ever seen, but it’s a start.

Kiyi jumps up from her chair to throw her arms around Zuko like she hadn't seen him in years.

“You’re in so much trouble.” She says as she pulls away, but she’s smiling.

Zuko grins awkwardly. “Yeah, I know.”

They exchange pleasantries before Zuko takes a seat next to Aang, and Azula takes a seat at the head of the table between him and Iroh. Once a server has come over to take their drink orders, Ursa’s eyes harden on her son.

“Zuko, you had me worried sick.” 

It had been years since Zuko had received a talking to from his mother. He tries to look chastened as he’s about to reply, but Azula cuts him off.

“Don’t be too hard on him, mother.” She says. “How much do you know about what happened?”

Ursa gives her son another stern look. “Not as much as I would like.”

Zuko feels Aang lace their fingers together under the table.

“Sorry, I could have done a better job of filling you in too.” His boyfriend apologizes. 

Without waiting, Zuko launches into his recounting of events, grateful he has his uncle, Aang and Azula to corroborate his story. It takes him the better part of dinner to finish telling Ursa and Kiyi everything, and when he’s done he finally lets himself finish eating.

“Wow.” Kiyi mutters. 

Ursa’s lips are pursed, a look Zuko recalls from his days as a troubled child.

“Well, it’s all said and done now.” Ursa says tightly. “But why didn’t you tell me, Zuko?”

“I didn’t want to get you involved. Father already hurt you enough.” 

Ursa’s amber eyes soften then, and she reaches across the table to take Zuko’s hand.

“Zuko, I’m your mother. I’m always here for you, no matter what. Especially when it comes to family matters.”

Here, she turns to Aang. “I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through.”

Aang laughs. “You’re all very kind, but everything’s worked out.” Zuko watches as his toothy smile fades to a smaller, closed-lip one, his eyes soft. “I would do it again.”

The way Aang is looking at him makes his heart flutter, like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. 

“Ahem.” Comes Azula’s terse interruption. “You idiots can stare longingly at each other all you want after dessert.”

Aang has the decency to blush, scratching the back of his neck with a grin.

“See nephew?” Iroh says as he sips his tea. “You ended up with a great love story after all.”

Azula snorts. “If I have to hear anymore about love, I’m going to be sick. Zuzu, where’s father’s trial at?”

He wasn’t out of the woods yet. His father’s trial would take months, and given that the blackmailing had gone both ways, he was facing some difficulty. 

“It’s moving along. Thanks to Hakoda, I have access to some of the best legal defense available.”

Through a few meetings, the lawyer had assured that Zuko had little to worry about, but given court schedules and the importance of more pressing cases, it would take months for Ozai to be sentenced. 

“It’s going to take time, but it’ll be worth it.”

Ozai was looking at much heftier charges this time around - repeat assault, bribery, blackmail and falsification of evidence. He would be lucky if he only got ten years in jail. Moreover, the scandal had already cost him his position. Either way, his father had lost.

“And now you’re writing a book.” Aang adds. “To tell your story.”

“A book?” Kiyi perks up. “Zu, you’re a writer now?”

He hadn’t been planning on saying anything yet, but with the cat out of the bag all he can do is nod. 

“Yeah, it’s an autobiography.” Azula had been disappointed that she wasn’t able to use all the information they’d gathered on Ozai, so she suggested working on the book together. “Azula’s helping me with editing.”

His announcement is met with loud enthusiasm from around the table, and Aang smiles at him knowingly from his side. 

“Imagine how many people you could help!” Kiyi exclaims. 

Zuko lowers his eyes to the table. “I hope so.”

It had been a difficult decision. All his adult life, Zuko had found other ways to explain his scar. Aang had been encouraging when he parsed the idea with him, saying that it would be a healthy way to work through the stubborn parts of his trauma. He was amazed at the way the words flowed from him once he got started, and more than that, he was surprised how much telling his own story made it possible for him to own it, taking his power back for his scared thirteen-year-old self.

“It’ll be a hit.” Azula chimes in. “Naturally, you have the best editor you could hope for.”

It’s exciting to see his family interacting so easily, and Zuko lets himself settle into the comfort of it. 

“Oh, Kiyi,” Azula says with a glint in her eye. “Zuzu said something about asking you the story of the spider.”

Zuko screws his eyes shut, but he listens without interrupting as Kiyi launches into the tale of his woes, putting particular emphasis on Zuko’s terrified yelp upon discovering the creature on his face.

“He’s graduated from yelping.” Aang cuts in. “He just freezes like a deer in headlights now.”

Zuko shoots Aang a glare. Was it his fault if every time he saw the eight spindly legs of his nemesis, he’d relive flashbacks from that terrifying night? 

“I guess you’ll just have to stick around to kill them all for me.” He says lightly.

“I think Aang’s a keeper.” Kiyi agrees. “Any man willing to kill spiders for you is.”

“Not to mention a man willing to stay after everything Ozai put him through.” Ursa adds, resting her chin on her hand.

“Yeah, I think I’ll keep him.” Zuko says as he gives Aang a meaningful look out of the corner of his eye.

“I think I’ll stick around.” Aang replies with a coy smile.


	18. October Glad

**October, the following year**

The road trip to PEI had been a long and mostly uneventful one. However, Zuko’s company greatly improved the adventure. The first time Aang had crossed the country, he’d had to resort to drinking copious amounts of caffeine to stay awake during long stretches driving highways bordered by thick evergreens on either side. The landscape had been beautiful, but the lack of diversity had nearly put him to sleep at the wheel more than once. Canada was by and large undeveloped hinterland if you went beyond the main cities.

"I'm so glad we're doing this." Aang says excitedly. "It was a great idea on your part."

"Well, you keep saying how much you miss autumns in PEI." Zuko chuckles."It wasn't exactly a hard sell."

Zuko had insisted they visit Aang's home during October, and he was happy to oblige. He was excited to revisit his old house, and to explore his favourite spots around his hometown again. They’d be staying in his childhood home, which he’d inherited from Gyatso. It seemed fitting to Aang that Zuko should be the first person he’d ever brought home with him.

"I can't wait for you to see downtown Charlottetown. It's gorgeous - mostly made up of old heritage buildings."

Zuko smiles at him. "I can't wait."

Following the Trans-Canada highway, Aang sings along to his road trip playlist while Zuko pours over the draft of his manuscript in the passenger seat, their fingers curled together over the gear shift. They were on day five of the trip, and they were just minutes away from Aang’s home. 

Zuko had put many an hour into the draft of his autobiography, and Aang had talked him down from more than a few cliffs while he wrote it. He’d developed a rhythm - making Zuko a fresh pot of tea every night he came home from work during the week, and in the morning on the weekends. Then he would make himself scarce for a few hours to give him time to edit, usually calling Azula to go over any pressing concerns. Aang himself had spent hours reading draft after draft, and he couldn't be prouder of Zuko for facing down his demons on every page.

“Zuko, look up!” Aang exclaims, taking in the canopies of red and gold leaves welcoming them against a bright dusky sky. 

He sees Zuko look up from his book and smile out the passenger window.

“You don’t see these colours in Calgary.” 

While Calgary’s autumn was still beautiful, it tended to involve a lot of gold and brown, but PEI was graced with the iconic Canadian maple trees, their leaves the very ones represented on the Canadian flag.

“Can we pull over?” Zuko asks, quite suddenly. “It looks like there’s a park that way.”

Aang looks over his shoulder, recognizing the area with a smile. He agrees and pulls the car into the little parking lot, and he and Zuko button up their fall coats against the chill air before stepping out together. 

Aang has to catch his breath as he takes in the multicoloured foliage of his home town. He inhales the familiar scent of fall deep into his lungs, and he feels as though he's been wrapped in a blanket of nostalgia. He sees Zuko walking ahead in his black coat, holding his hand out to him. Aang smiles and bounds forward, taking his boyfriend’s hand as they walk onto the well-trodden path, framed by deep crimsons, greens and yellows.

“I’m home.” He sighs.

Zuko squeezes his hand, keeping step with him as they move along the path, as though walking into a fairy tale.

The last year had been a whirlwind, to say the least. Ozai had been sentenced a few months ago, and in that time, Aang had started his journey into full-time level one OT work until he would eventually begin his second fieldwork placement. The day Aang walked out of Carolyn’s office after finishing the last day of his fieldwork placement, he felt like dancing with every step. She’d given him a card signed by some of the patients he’d helped, including Declan and Jess. The card had been sealed in a little orange envelope with his name scrawled across the front in Carolyn’s looping cursive.

She was thrilled when Aang informed her he was moving to Calgary full-time once he wrapped things up in PEI. Thanks to Carolyn, he’d found a job rather quickly, working with the outpatient department at a hospital. Aang loved the work, helping to connect patients with the resources they needed coming out of surgery or intensive treatment, referring them to financial aids when necessary, or doing a bit of legwork to find the best community resources to suit each individual’s needs.

He and Zuko had properly moved in together, and for the first time since living on the island, Aang had the chance to personalize his space. At first he'd argued with Zuko, insisting he was happy with the way the apartment looked already, but it was a losing battle.

"If you're going to live here, you're under formal obligation to decorate, at least a little." Or something along those lines. Later, Zuko admitted it was because he wanted the apartment to reflect their relationship - a combination of them both. Aang melts at the memory.

Though not a man of many words most of the time, Zuko was especially quiet as they walked. Aang gave him a sidelong look.

"Hey, penny for your thoughts?"

"We don't even use pennies anymore." Zuko retorts with a smirk.

"Fine, a quarter then." Here, Aang digs around in his pocket theatrically, coming up with a bit of lint in his palm. "Uh... Scratch that. How about you just tell me what's on your mind?"

Zuko lifts his chin, looking around at the thick tree heads crowding together above them.

"I was just thinking that it's nice to get to know this part of your life." He says gently.

Aang looks up as well, and he remembers the feel of the old path under his boots.

“I used to go for walks here with Gyatso when I was a kid.” He reminisces.

With a smile, Zuko cocks his head. "Tell me about it?"

And so Aang does. He talks about baking pies with his adoptive father, about playing pai sho, and coming out to him. He tells Zuko about dangerous parkour stunts he would pull as a teenager, and about his friends, and all the ways Gyatso taught him to celebrate diversity, and to stand up for those who needed help. 

“I wish you could have met him.” Aang says finally, turning to Zuko with a sad smile. “He would have liked you.”

Their boots crunch satisfactorily over the brown leaves on the ground, and the October chill settles around them, a whispered promise of change to come. There was something sad and beautiful about it all at once. Being back in PEI again made Aang’s heart hurt with yearning for times gone by, but with Zuko’s hand in his, he was reminded that he had his whole life ahead of him to discover. 

_I’ve found a family of my own._ He thinks, wondering if Gyatso might be able to hear him. 

“Now it’s my turn to ask what’s on your mind.” Zuko says, elbowing Aang playfully.

He has to think about it, but finally he pulls Zuko’s hand to his lips and plants a kiss to his knuckles.

“Just that I’m grateful to have you in my life.” He loves the way Zuko’s good ear turns a bright pink. “And how happy I am to have met you and everyone else. I used to spend a lot of time thinking about what I lost when Gyatso died, but now all I can think of is what I’ve gained.”

Zuko opens his mouth to say something, but Aang finds his attention diverted.

“Wait, is that-” Here, Aang holds a hand over his brow as he narrows his eyes. “That’s a pile of leaves!”

He hears Zuko yelp as he bounds forward, dragging him by his hand. When he reaches the leaves, Aang wastes no time leaping into the pile until he's buried to his knees. With a "whoop" from his chest, he throws the leaves into the air as Zuko shakes his head at him.

“You’re going to be soaked.” he warns.

Aang laughs. “It’s all part of the experience! C’mon.” 

He watches as Zuko approaches the pile and dips his arms elbow deep to come up with a large bulk. Zuko quirks a brow at him, then holds the leaves above Aang’s head, releasing them so they flutter down around him. Grinning, Aang holds his hands out to catch them as he spins.

He’s interrupted mid-twirl when he feels Zuko’s hand close gently around his wrist, guiding him to step out of the pile. And Aang’s heart leaps into his throat when he sees Zuko dropping to one knee. He has to remember how to breathe as he watches him retrieve a small black velvet box from his coat pocket, holding it up between them.

Honey amber eyes look up at him, earnest and vulnerable, as Zuko pulls back the lid of the box to reveal a simple silver band.

“Aang,” He whispers. “I realize it’s only been a year.”

Tears spring to his eyes as Zuko lets his hand slip down his wrist, curling warm fingers around his palm.

“But we’ve been through hell together,” Zuko continues, his voice cracking. “The last twelve months have changed the way I see the world - _you’ve_ changed the way I see it.” Here, he pauses, taking a breath. “I'm grateful for every day I have with you, because we both know that you were crazy to stay.”

Aang laughs, feeling his tears falling freely now.

“Aang, you mean more to me than words could ever express. And this year with you, while one of the most painful, has also been the most wonderful. You’ve swiftly become _my_ other half, _my_ balance, and _my_ centre.”

Aang watches as a blush creeps up Zuko’s neck and over his face.

“A future with you is all I can imagine now, so all that’s left is to ask...” 

Aang had never seen Zuko look like this before - it may as well be his heart he holds in his hands.

“Aang, will you marry me?”

Biting his lip, Aang wraps his hands around Zuko’s wrists to pull him up, crushing their lips together desperately.

A cool breeze dances around them, making the leaves swirl at their feet.

“Zuko.” Aang breathes, resting their foreheads together. “Of course... I will.”

He lets Zuko take his left hand to slip the band over his ring finger, and he loves the blinding smile he sees on the face of the man he loves so dearly.

“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” Aang whispers, then he leans in to capture Zuko’s lips, kissing his fiancé deeply, with years of future Octobers stretching out before them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy wow, folks. We've MADE IT. Thank you SO much for going on this lovely journey with me. You've made this experience absolutely unforgettable.
> 
> Special thanks to The_Cloud_Whisperer, Lliyk, Rosebud20 and BraveNico for being my constant pillars of encouragement and support through thoughtful comments and fun. Of course, thank you to everyone who's read this story from beginning to end. I couldn't have done it without you.
> 
> Honestly, thank you again.


	19. Author's Notes

Honestly, this story has been a labour of love, and one that wouldn't have been possible without the support and encouragement of many friends here on AO3, and in my life. I know this is just a piece of fanfiction, but I really loved writing October Glad. I've made some incredible friends through this story. What's more, the world may seem to be falling apart, but it's a relief to know that as people, we can come together despite distance and difficulty.

It's funny when I think back now. I wrote the first chapter thinking it would be a standalone to satiate my need to have these characters be smitten with each other. What was meant to be a one shot quickly morphed into a full-fledged story with a whole plot. This is the first time I've attempted writing something without any sci-fi or supernatural elements, and oh dear, it shows. I'm proud of this piece of work, I truly am, but there is so much I've learned from this exercise. I hope to apply what I learned to future stories. <3

Things to know -

  1. I am not a Occupational Therapist, and thus, my description of Aang's fieldwork time is all conjecture and what little information I could find online. Also, at least in Canada, turns out a fieldwork placement happens seven weeks at a time throughout the master's program until six months worth of practical experience is attained. I just read that the other day, and I was slightly mortified. Ah well - fanfiction, breaking real-life rules since forever, am I right? Also, it looks like fieldwork can take place in a number of situations. I apologize to anyone who might have cringed while reading those scenes, because I'm sure they are extremely inaccurate, or at the very least, incomplete.
  2. Gyatso's story - the brain tumor - that's written from my personal experience in my own family. I'm sure I'm not alone with this, so if anyone's been struggling with a similar difficulty, know that I understand, and my heart is with you.
  3. I had to do a lot of research about the legalities of Domestic Violence and punishment in Canada, so all of Zuko's background was put together that way. I'm not drawing from my own experience in any way. I feel a little more confident about how that came together.
  4. The charges against Aang - I did a lot of reading about how sexual abuse charges are laid, and at least in Alberta, you need a _lot_ of evidence to even get the charges to go through. Since the first iteration of this story didn't really have enough damning evidence against Aang, I needed to come back and rewrite some things.
  5. Zuko and his father's face off - So, in a domestic violence situation with a no contact order, Ozai needs to be cautious not to cross any lines, or else he's back in the slammer. Also, Ozai isn't awesomely strong, he's just a coward, and Zuko is a noble prat who throws himself in front of Aang to protect the man he loves, and ends up getting a concussion for it.



Again, thank you so much for reading. This has been a wonderful ride.


End file.
